. 


d 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE 


BY 

CHARLES  GARVICE 

Author  oj  "Fiiniiet  Holt's :  Daughter,"  "Claire,"  "Elaine,''  "  Her  Ransom,' 

"Leslie's  Loyalty"  "  Sweet  Cymbeline,"   "  The  Snowdrift" 

"  Woven  on  Fate's  Loom,''  Etc.,  Etc. 


NEW  YORK 
THE  FEDERAL  BOOK  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

ONE  afternoon  in  early  June  about  the  happiest  looking 
girl  in  all  England  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the  new  lions' 
house  at  the  Zoological  Gardens. 

She  stood  looking  wistfully  and  longingly,  and  then 
glanced  with  a  little  sigh  of  regret  at  a  group  of  ladies 
seated  under  the  trees  on.  tli3  lawn  a  little  way  off.  She 
had  been  seated  in  the  group,  listening  to  the  small  talk, 
for  nearly  half  an  hour,  and  that  half  hour  had  just 
meant  so  much  wasted  time  to  her  :  for  she  loved,  adored, 
animals  of  all  kinds,  wild  or  tame,  and  she  hated  gossip. 
So  she  had  got  up  quietly  and  strolled  off — knowing  full 
well  that  to  stroll  away  from  your  chaperon  and  guardian 
is  an  act  of  disobedience  and  wickedness  of  almost  the  last 
degree.  With  a  sigh,  she  was  going  back  to  the  group, 
when,  unfortunately  for  her,  the  lion — the  big  one  with 
the  mane — gave  a  groan  and  then  a  roar.  This  was 
irresistible ;  and  the  girl,  abandoning  the  proprieties, 
passed  through  the  doorway,  and,  with  ecstatic  enjoyment, 
sauntered  down  the  house  watching  the  animals.  There 
were  not  many  people  in  the  place,  and  she  almost  had  it 
to  herself:  and  no  words  can  tell  how  she  enjoyed  it. 
Sometimes  she  leaned  Avith  both  elbows  on  the  iron  bar 
which  rails  off  the  cages  from  the  promenade ;  and  now 
and  again  she  climbed  up  the  steps  facing  the  dens  and 
sat  on  one  of  the  seats,  her  elbows  on  her  knees,  her  chin 
resting  in  her  gloved  hands. 

She  was  very  happy:  first,  because  she  was  young. 
Oh  !  it  is  good  to  be  only  twenty  !  Secondly,  because  she 
was  perfectly  healthy :  and  thirdly,  because  she  had  not 
eaten  of  the  fruit  of  the  Tree  of  Knowledge.  That  is  to 

3 


4  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

.say,  she   was  as  innocent  of  all  evil  as  the  doves  which 

;  in  the  cages  in  the  South  Walk.     Alas!  how  few 

girls  of  twenty  are  there  who  can  lay  their  little  white 

hands  on  their  hearts  and   claim  a  like   ignorance!     l>ut 

this  ehild  of  Nature,  as  her  aunt,  Lady  Pauline  Lascelles, 

called  her,  had  been  exceptionally  brought  up — as  will 

:i  presently. 

was  so  absorbed  in  the  lions  and  tigers,  the  black 
panther  with  the  temper,  and  the  leopard  who  declined 
to  change  his  spots,  that  when  she  had  got  to  the  end  of 
irnivora  house,  instead  of  returning  to  the  group, 
i tight  by  the  splash  of  the  seals,  who  live  just  out- 
wide,  passed  on,  and  instantly  grew  as  absorbed  in  them. 
Leaning  on  the  bar,  she  watched  the  keeper  put  the  in- 
telligent, soft-eyed  little  fellows  through  their  stereotyped 
tricks,  and  frankly,  and  with  an  "Oh!  thank  you,  thank 
you  :  how  clever,  how  very  clever  they  are ! "  she  gave 
the  keeper  a  shilling  from  the  silver-netted  purse  which 
she  extracted  from  the  mysterious  pocket  which  ladies 
favor  and  no  man  has  ever  yet  been  known  to  find. 

From  the  seals  she  sauntered  on  to  the  monkey-house. 
But  the  evil-smelling  place  was  too  much  for  her,  and, 
suddenly  awakened  from  her  kind  of  dream,  she  remem- 
bered her  aunt,  and  retraced  her  steps  by  way  of  the 
lions'  house. 

she  went  through  it  again  her  pace  grew  slower, 
and  she  lingered  just  a  moment  or  two  before  the  big 
lion's — Victor's — cage.  While  she  was  looking  at  him 
admiringly,  the  keeper's  private  door  between  the 
opened,  and  the  keeper  came  out.  He  was  followed  by  a 
gentleman,  who  paused  a  moment  to  look  around  him, 
then,  passing  something  into  the  keeper's  hands,  nodded, 
and  walked  on. 

The  keeper  pocketed  his  tip,  touched  hi.s  hat  with 
marked  respect,  "and  looked  after  the  gentleman  curiously. 

The  young  girl  looked  after  him,  too,  and  a  littl 
viously ;  for   fancy  being  privileged  to  go  "  behind  the 
scenes  "  at  the  Zoo ! 

She  left  the  carnivora  house,  and   \\ulkedquiek" 
ward   the   lawn;  then   she   stopped   and  looked    round, 
ratln.-r  aghast,  for  the  group  had  gone    from  under  the 
trees,  and  Lady  Pauline  was  not  to  be  seen. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  5 

She  was  not  alarmed,  because  she  was  neither  nervous 
nor  timid ;  and  she  felt  sure  she  could  find  her  aunt,  who 
was  both  tall  and  stately,  and  not  easily  hidden.  So,  al- 
most as  happy  as  before,  she  wandered  round  and  about, 
just  pausing  on  tiptoe,  so  to  speak,  before  some  particu- 
larly enticing  cage,  and  keeping  her  eyes  on  the  alert. 
But  after  half  an  hour  spent  in  this  way  and  no  aunt  in 
sight,  she  began  to  get— well,  a  little  grave  and  serious. 

The  Zoo  is  not  exactly  a  wilderness — though  there  are 
plenty  of  wild  animals  in  it — and  there  are  numerous 
keepers  of  whom  one  can  inquire  one's  way ;  and  the 
girl  was  not  afraid  of  being  lost.  But  she  knew  Lady 
Pauline  would  be  anxious,  and  as  angry  as  she  could  ever 
find  it  possible  to  be ;  and  she  was  getting  vexed  with 
herself. 

Xow  as  she  had  a  particularly  eloquent  face — eyes, 
lips  and  brow  which  reflected  and  expressed  every  pass- 
ing emotion — it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that,  as  she 
stood  at  the  corner  of  one  of  the  walks,  looking  from  side 
to  side  anxiously,  she  should  attract  attention. 

A  nursemaid,  dragging  two  children  behind  her,  re- 
marked to  the  eldest; 

"  Look  at  that  pretty  lidy ;  she's  been  an'  lost  her  wiy." 

A  young  man  glanced  at  her,  and  waited,  longing  to 
speak  to  her  and  offer  assistance ;  but  he  was  young  and 
shy,  and.  he,  too,  passed  on.  Then  came  the  gentleman 
who  had  come  from  behind  the  dens.  Pie  was  walking 
slowly,  with  eyes  fixed  straight  before  him,  and  he  did 
not  see  the  girlish  figure  and  the  anxious  face  until  he 
was  close  upon  her  and  he,  too,  looked  as  if  he  would  have 
liked  to  pass  by. 

But  something  in  the  gray-blue  eyes,  in  the  delicate 
lines  of  the  girl's  white  brow,  stopped  him  against  his 
will. 

lie  pulled  up,  raised  his  hat,  and  in  a  graA-e  voice  that 
was  not  by  any  means  unmusical,  said : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  Are  you  looking  for  any  one  ? 
Can  I  help  you  ?  " 

The  girl  did  not  blush,  but  turned  her  eyes  upon  him 
with  an  almost  boyish  frankness. 

"  Oh,  thank  you !  "  she  said,  rather  hesitatingly — for 
how  could  he  help  her ?  "I  have  wandered  from  my 


6  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

people,  and  lost  them.     I  have  been  searching  for  them 
everywhere,  but  cannot  see  them." 

The  girl  as  her  eyes  rested  on  him  placidly,  incuriously, 
saw  a  well-dressed  man,  with  a  handsome  face,  with  dark 
eyes  and  hair.     There  was  a  suspicion  of  gray  about  the 
temples,  and  a  look  of  gravity  and  sadness  in  the  < 
which,  perhaps,  struck  her  afterward.     But  for  the  mo- 
ment she  only  noticed  that  he  was  good-looking  and  had 
a  distinguished  air :  and  that  he  seemed  rather  wearied 
and  a  little  bored,  but  too  well-bred  not  to  try  and  < 
ceal  it. 

No  voice  whispered  in  her  ear — "  Behold  this  man :  he 
is  your  Fate — the  man  who  will  change  the  current  of 
your  life ;  the  man  whose  slightest  word,  lightest  smile, 
Avill  have  the  power  to  move  your  heart  to  its  very 
depths." 

he  smiled  at  him  with  her  eloquent  mouth,  with 
her  frank,  blue  eyes ;  and  the  man  looked  gravely  into 
the  face,  scarcely  noticing  its  fascination. 

••  Where  did  you  leave  them  ?  "  he  asked. 

'•Under  the  trees  on  the  lawn,  by  the  li<"  "  she 

replied.     "  I  strolled  in  there,  and  wandered  farther  than 
T  intended  ;  when  I  came  back  they  had  gone." 

••  Xo  doubt  they  only  left  for  a  time;  they  may  have 
gone  back,"  he  said. 

"Ah.  do  you  think  so?"  she  said,  with  a  touch  of  re- 
lief in  her  voice,  a  smile  in  her  eyes.  "  But  I  can't  find 
it  again  !  I've  gone  round  and  round  until  I  feel  as  if  I 
were  in  a  maze  " 

"I  think  I  know  the  place  you  mean :  and,  if  you  will 
allow  me,  I  will  take  you  back  to  it." 

As  they  walked  on  side  by  side  he  asked: 

"  Is  this  your  first  visit  to  the  Zoo  *  " 

"Yes,  my  very  first.  We  have  always  lived  in  the 
country.  This  is  my  lirst  visit  to  London,  and  I  be.u. 
aunt  to  bring  me  here— I  had  heard  and  read  so  much  of 
it.  I  am  so  fond  of  animals.  I  have  a  horse  of  my  own, 
two  dogs,  three  cats,  sonic  white  mice,  and  a  guinea  pig. 
I  bought  a  parrot  of  a  sailor  (we. live  near  a  port),  but 
aunt  said  it  talked  bad  language,  so  I  exchanged  it  for 
some  Belgian  hares." 

';  You  must  have  a  perfect  menagerie,"  he  remarked. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  7 

She  laughed.  How  soon  was  the  man  to  thrill  from 
head  to  foot  at  that  laugh  !  And  yet,  now,  it  affected 
him  not  the  least  bit  in  the  world.  It  struck  him  as 
musical,  pleasant — that  was  all. 

"It  was  awfully  hard  to  part  with  them.  I  brought 
the  dogs  and  the  guinea  pig,  and  the  white  mice  ;  but  I 
had  to  leave  the  rest  behind.  Oh,  there  is  the  place  ;  but 
my  aunt  is  not  there ! "  she  broke  off. 

The  man  looked  around,  as  a  man  does  when  he  has 
undertaken  to  do  something  which  he  knows  will  be  a 
nuisance. 

"  Perhaps  she  is  searching  for  you,  as  you  have  been 
searching  for  her,"  he  said.  "  We  had  better  go  round 
the  gardens.  What'  is  your  aunt  like  ?  But  you  will  see 
her,  of  course,  if  we  run  against  her  ?  " 

"  She  is  tall  and  stately,"  said  the  girl,  "  and  she  is 
dressed  in  gray,  like  I  am ;  but  in  silk.  Oh,  of  course, 
I  should  see  her  ever  so  far  off !  " 

"  Then  let  us  go  round,"  lie  said  ;  "  there  is  no  cause 
for  anxiety.1' 

"  I  am  not  anxious,"  said  the  girl,  frankly.  "  Of 
course,  aunt  will  be  a  little  angry — well,  not  angry ;  she 
never  is ;  she  couldn't  be ;  but  I  know  that  the  carriage 
was  ordered  to  take  us  up  at  one  of  the  gates  at  six  o'clock, 
and  I  think  I  could  find  it.  Are  we  going  through  the 
lions'  house  ?  I  hope  we  can.  I've  been  through  twice ; 
but  I  should  never  get  tired  of  it — should  you?  " 

"  Eh  V  "  he  said,  absently.  Her  voice  was  musical,  but 
he  was  not  paying  much  attention  to  her  words.  "  Oh,  I 
don't  know.  I  go  to  it  very  often." 

"I  saw  you  just  now,"  she  said,  "I  saw  you  come  out 
from  the  back  of  the  dens  with  the  keeper." 

"  Did  you  V  "  he  said,  listlessly.  "  Yes,  I  had  been  round 
to  see  a  young  lion  I  brought  over." 

She  stopped  dead  short,  and  looked  at  him,  her  limpid 
eyes  wide  as  saucers,  and,  it  must  be  confessed,  her  mouth 
almost  as  open. 

"  A  lion  you  brought  over  !  You,  yourself  !  "  she  ex- 
claimed. 

He  smiled  a  little  wearily  and  listlessly. 

"  There  is  nothing  wonderful  in  that,"  he  said.  "  I've 
just  come  from  Africa ;  there  are  lions  there  still,  strange 


8  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

to  say.  T  caught  this  one  after  shooting  its  mother.  It's 
a  fine  young  lion,  and  doing  very  well." 

"  Oh,  how  I  should  like  to  see  it ! "  she  exclaimed,  not 
shyly  or  hesitatingly,  but  frankly,  like  a  girl,  a  child,  if 
you  like,  whose  wishes  have  always  been  granted. 

"Should  you?  Nothing  easier,"  he  said,  in  the  same 
tone.  "  The  keeper  shall  show  it  to  you." 

He  took  her  into  the  house,  beckoned  to  the  keeper, 
who  touched  his  hat  as  respectfully  as  before,  and,  to  the 
girl's  delight,  led  them  through  the  passage  between  the 
cages  to  the  back  of  the  dens. 

"  Just  show  us  the  youngster,  keeper,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  said  the  keeper  obsequiously. 

They  had  passed  into  a  kind  of  covered  yard,  in  which 
were  standing  several  huge  traveling  cages.  Some  of 
these  were  covered  with  tarpaulin,  and  from  one  of  these 
the  keeper  drew  aside  the  covering  and  revealed  a  fine 
young  lion.  As  the  light  streamed  in  upon  him  he 
blinked  and  snarled,  showing  his  white,  even  teeth, 
angrily.  - 

"  Oh,  what  a  beauty  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl.  "  And  you 
really  caught  it !  Oh,  how  I  envy  you  !  What  a  lovely 
head  it  has  !  " 

As  she  spoke,  she  went  down  on  one  knee,  and,  all  un- 
conscious, got  a  little  too  close  to  the  cage. 

Every  one  knows  how  quickly  a  cat's  claw  shoots  out 
after  a  bird  or  a  mouse.  Like  a  flash  of  lightning  the 
young  lord  of  the  forest  darted  out  his  paw  at  the  girl. 
But  the  gentleman  had  caught  the  vicious  look  in  the 
animal's  eyes,  and  before  the  sharp  claw  could  reach  her, 
he  had  caught  her  by  the  arm  and  drawn  her  back.  He 
was  only  just  in  time  to  save  her,  and  not  in  time  to  save 
himself:  for  the  sound  of  rent  cloth  mixed  with  the  snarl 
and  roar  of  disappointment  which  the  lion  sent  forth. 

The  keeper  struck  at  the  cage,  shouted  rebukingly  and 
let  the  tarpaulin  down. 

"Hope  he  didn't  catch  you,  my  lord?"  he  said,  with 
anxious  respect. 

The  gentleman  shook  his  head  and  slipped  his  arm  with 
the  torn  sleeve  behind  him. 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  Show  us  that  young 
panther,  keeper." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  9 

The  girl  looked  from  one  to  the  other.  She  was  a 
little  pale. 

"  Are  you  sure  it  did  not  touch  your  arm  ?  "  she  said, 
her  sweet  eyes  fixed  upon  his  face  Avith  a  troubled  ex- 
pression ;  "  I — I  thought  I  heard  the  cloth  tear.  Are  you 
sure,  please  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure,"  he  said,  a  little  wearily.  "  There  is  the 
most  dangerous  animal  in  the  gardens."  He  nodded  to- 
ward the  panther,  who  regarded  them  with  a  sullen 
ferocity,  and,  as  he  nodded,  he  took  her  arm  and  held  her 
away  from  the  cage. 

The  keeper  showed  them  several  other  animals  in  the 
private  yard,  and  now  and  again  the  gentleman  dropped 
a  word  of  criticism  and  advice,  which,  the  girl  noticed, 
the  keeper  received  with  marked  deference.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  her  guardian  for  the  time  being  must  be  a  man 
of  some  importance. 

But  presently  he  appeared  to  remember  that  they  were 
not  very  likely  to  find  her  people  at  the  back  of  the  lion's 
den,  and,  with  a  nod  to  the  keeper,  he  led  her  out  again. 
They  walked  round  and  round  the  most  frequented  parts 
of  the  Gardens  for  some  time,  stopping  to  look  at  the 
various  cages,  and  the  girl  chatted  and  asked  questions 
with  a  perfect  freedom  from  shyness.  Every  now  and 
then  she  would  look  up  at  his  face  laughingly,  and  call 
his  attention  to  some  odd  bird  or  quadruped  ;  and  the  man 
would  come  down  out  of  the  clouds  and  smile  gravely. 

He  answered  all  her  questions  with  quiet  exactitude, 
and  once  or  twice  volunteered  some  information. 

"  You  must  know  a  great  deal  about  animals,"  she  re- 
marked. "  I  wish  I  did  !  "  and  she  sighed. 

"  I  -have  traveled  a  little,"  he  responded. 

"  I  wish  I  had  !  "  she  said,  with  a  half  smile  and  a  half 
sigh.  "  But  girls  don't  travel,  do  they  ?  They  are  so 
different  from  men.  Now,  it  wouldn't  matter  if  you  were 
lost  instead  of  me." 

"  Xot  much,"  he  said. 

"  Xo ;  you  would  not  be  scolded  and  told — -oh,  all  sorts 
of  things.  I  don't  see  aunt  anywhere — and  oh,  I  am  so 
thirsty  !  " 

"  Are  you  ?  Why  didn't  you  say  so  before  ? "  he 
asked. 


HER   HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  T  didn't  think  of  it  before  I  saw  the  refreshment  place," 
si ic  replied,  frankly. 

He  led  her  up  the  path  and  put  a  chair  for  her  at  one 
of  the  tables  under  the  trees,  full  in  sight  of  the  elephants 
promenading  with  their  cages  of  assorted  human  beings, 
and  ordered  tra  for  t\vo. 

waiter  brought  it,  and  set  it  down  with  the  usual 
lie  in  front  of  the  girl,  and   she  poured  it  out  with 
simple  gravity,  as  if— well,  as  if  they  were  brother  and 
-.  -r  or  man  and  wife. 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  regarded  her  with  a 
slight  increase  of  interest.  She  was  certainly  very  beau- 
tiful. Her  eyes  were  rather  a  strange  blue— the  blue  that 
darkens  quickly  under  any  swift  or  deep  emotion.  Then 
he  looked  at  her  dress,  and,  seeing  its  simplicity,  pondered 
over  her  social  position.  It  was  evident  that  the  girl 
a  lady.  Her  very  innocence  and  frankness  proved  that, 
even  if  her  voice  and  manner  had  not  done  so. 

"Do  you  take  sugar?"  she  asked,  lifting  her  eyes  to 
his  so  suddenly  that  he  found  it  i .  to  drop  his  own 

critical  ones.      "  Xo  ?  How  strange  that  seems!     I  do 

as  much  as  I  can  get." 

"  You  can  pour  the  contents  of  the  sugar  basin  into  your 
cup,  if  you  like,"  he  said. 

"I  wonder  what  the  waiter  would  say!     No,  I  am"  go- 
ing to  be  content  with  three  lumps.     Oh,  how  nice  the 
is  !     I  was  so  very,  very  thirsty — weren't  you 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  simply.  He  beckoned  a  waiter,  and  t<  »ld 
him  to  bring  some  cake.  The  girl  brightened  up  at  it,  and, 
after  helping  herself,  cut  a  slice  for  him. 

-Xot  like  cake!"  she  said.  "That's  strange,  too— I 
thought  every  one  liked  cake."1 

'•  .Most  young  people  do,"  he  said,  with  the  half- \\vary 
smile. 

She  looked  ;,t  him  with  something  like  actual  attention, 
her  cake  poised  in  her  hand. 

"  Are  you— old  ?  "  she  said.  The  simplicity  of  the  ques- 
tion, to  say  nothing  of  its  frankness,  brought*  a  full-blown 
smile  to  his  face,  and  he  certainly  did  not  look  old  at  that 
moment. 

all  depends  upon  what  you  call  old,"  he  said.     "I 
am  afraid  I  should  seem  to  you  very  aged." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  11 

"  Aunt,  says  that  a  man  is  as  old  as  he  feels,  and  a 
woman  as  old  as  she  looks." 

"  Reckoning  on  that  basis,  I  am  ninety-three,"  he  said. 

She  smiled  at  him  with  innocent  amusement. 

«  And  I  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  listless  kind  of  scrutiny. 

"  Seventeen---eighteen  ?  " 

She  put  the  cake  down  and  stared  at  him  with  girlish 
indignation. 

"  How  absurd  !• "     I  am  nearly  twenty."     . 

He  was  surprised,  and  he  looked  it — faintly. 

«  Really  ?  " 

"  Yes,  really.  You  are  like  aunt.  She  is  always  telling 
me  that  I  look  like  a  girl,  and  imploring  me  to  remember 
that  I  am  a  woman — as  if  it  made  any  difference  !  " 

He  got  out  a  cigarette  case,  got  it  out  mechanically— 
then  glanced  at  her,  and  was  putting  it  away  again  when 
she  said : 

"  Are  you  going  to  smoke  ?  Do,  if  you  wish.  I  do  not 
mind." 

He  lit  his  cigarette  and  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  table. 

"  You  live  with  your  aunt  ?  "  he  said— not  because  he 
wished  to  know,  but  just  to  make  conversation.  She 
nodded  over  her  teacup,  and  munched  her  cake  for  a 
moment  before  replying. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  lived  with  her  for  the  past  ten  years — 
she  and  I  alone  together." 

"  Then — your  parents  are  dead  ?  " 

"  My  mother  is,"  she  said,  quietly,  and  with  a  sudden 
sweet  gravity  in  the  lovely  face.  "  I  went  to  auntie  when 
my  mother  died.  My  father  is  alive,  and  I  have  a  brother 
— he  is  younger  than  I  am.  Aunt  adopted  me,  you  know. 
I  had  no  mother  nor  sister,  and  father  was  traveling  about, 
and — I  suppose  he  was  glad  to  get  rid  of  me.  Girls  are 
always  a  nuisance,  are  they  not '? " 

"I  don't  know — not  always,  I  should  think.  Only 
sometimes.  By  the  way,  you  did  not  tell  me  your  aunt's 
name?." 

"  Lascelles — Lady  Lascelles,"  said  the  girl. 

He  raised  his  eyebrows  slightly,  as  if  he  recognized 
the  name. 

"  And  you  did  not  tell  me  yours,"  he  remarked. 


1-2  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  You  didn't  ask  me,"  she  said,  simply.  "  It  is  Decima 
Deane.  What  is  yours  ';  " 

She  leaned  forward,  her  chin  resting  on  her  now  un- 
gloved hand  and  regarded  him  with  girlish,  friendly 
curiosity. 

The  waiter  came  up  at  the  moment,  and  the  gentleman 
put  his  left  hand  in  his  pocket  for  his  purse.  He  had 
kept  his  arm  behind  his  chair  during  tea,  and  even  now 
he  moved  it  out  of  sight  again  quickly  and  shuffled  his 
purse  to  the  right  hand ;  but  Decimals,  eyes  were  sharp, 
as  well  as  beautiful,  and  she  saw  the  rent  in  the  sleeve. 

She  forgot  all  about  his  name,  and  exclaimed: 

M  Why,  the  lion  did  tear  your  sleeve  !     Oh,  did  it  scratch 


••  Xo.  no,''  he  said,  rather  shortly.  "How  much, 
waiter?" 

"  Three  shillings,  sir.'' 

'•  That  is  eighteen  pence  each,"  said  Decima,  taking  out 
her  silver  chain  purse,  and  she  extracted  a  shilling  and 
sixpence  and  laid  them  down  on  the  table. 

The  man  smiled  grimly.  It  was  evident  he  was  the 
first  man  with  whom  she  had  ever  taken  tea  in  public. 

"Put  your  money  back,"  he  said,  much  amused. 

"  Oh,  why  ?  "  she  asked,  with  wide  eyes.  "  Why  should 
YOU  pay  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,''  he  said ;  "excepting  that  it  is  usual, 
and  that  it  would  be  exceedingly  bad  form  for  you  to  pay 
for  yourself." 

"  Now  I  can't  understand  that!  "  she  said,  with  girlish 
insistence,  and  just  as  if  she  were  arguing  with  a  school- 
fellow. "  Why  should  a  gentleman  always  pay  for 
ladies?" 

"  Because  it  is  one  of  the  few  privileges  we  wretched 
men  po.ssi-s." 

"That's  absurd!"  she  laughed.  "Besides,  we  are 
strangers.  And  I  don't  know  what  aunt  would  say  ! 
She  says  that  girls'should  always  be  independent  :  and — 
oh,  here  she  is  !  Aunt,  how  did  you  Jose  me  ?  "  And 
she  sprang  up  and  caught  the  arm  of  the  tall  lady  in 
gray,  who  approached  with  stately  steps  and  a  grave 
countenance. 

"  My   dear   Decima,   where,   where,   have   you  been  ? 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  13 

And  " — as  the  gentleman  rose  and  removed  his  hat — "  and 
who  is  this  ?  "  she  added,  in  an  anxious  undertone.  De- 
cima  turned  a  smiling  and  grateful  face  toward  her  late 
and  temporary  guardian. 

"  Oh,  this  gentleman  has  been  helping  me  to  find  you, 
and  we  could  not,  though  we  went  everywhere." 

Lady  Lascelles  glanced  at  the  tea-table,  and  then  at  the 
tall  and  erect  gentleman  in  front  of  it,  with  a  gray  and 
stern  eye. 

"  And  I  was  so  thirsty,"  Decima  went  on,  answering 
the  look,  "  and  he  got  some  tea ;  and — well,  then  you 
came  up  !  I  am  so  glad  !  But  I  should  not  have  been  lost, 
should  I  ?  I  should  have  gone  to  the  gate  where  the  car- 
riage was  to  wait.  And,  oh,  aunt,  will  you  please  thank 
this  gentleman  for  taking  so  much  trouble — 

Lady  Lascelles  touched  the  girl's  arm,  as  an  exhorta- 
tion to  silence,  and  addressed  the  gentleman. 

"  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  your  care  of  my  niece, 
sir.  I  am  afraid  she  has  given  you  some  trouble.  To 
whom  am  I  indebted  ?  " 

The  gentleman  frowned  slightly,  as  if  the  question 
were  an  unwelcome  one.  From  his  cigarette  case  lying  on 
the  table  he  took  a  card  and  gave  it  to  her. 

"  That  is  my  name,"  he  said,  quietly. 

Lady  Lascelles  started  slightly,  her  face  flushing. 

He  bowed  as  if  he  understood,  his  lips  set  tight. 

The  stately  lady  became  taller  and  more  stately.  With 
a  cold  "  good-day  "  she  drew  Decima's  hand  over  her  arm 
— as  if  the  girl  suddenly  needed  protection — and  was 
walking  her  off.  But  Decima  looked  back,  with  a  troub- 
led expression  in  her  eyes  and  about  the  expressive 
mouth,  and,  swiftly  releasing  her  arm,  she  ran  back  to 
where  the  gentleman  was  still  standing,  a  faint,  grim 
smile -of  amusement1  in  his  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  haven't  thanked  you  as  I  ought  to !  "  she  said. 
"  You  were  so  kind  and — and  patient  !  And  you  showed 
me  the  private  lions,  you  know — and  I  am  so  grateful  !— 
and — oh,  please  do  not  be  offended  with  aunt,  but — but 
shake  hands." 

She  held  out  her  hand  and  he  took  it.  He  did  not 
press  it,  but  let  it  fall,  and  with  another  lifting  of  his 
hat  walked  away. 


14  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Lady  Lascelles  waited,  with  her  lips  tightly  set,  a  frown 
upon  her  broad  brow. 

"  Decima,  coine,  please ! "  she  said. 

Decima  turned  to  her  aunt's  side,  but  looked  rather 
wistfully  after  the  tall,  retreating  form  of  the  man  who 
had  been  so  coldly  treated  for  his  kindness. 

'•  Why — why  were  you  so  angry  with  him,  aont  "  she 
asked,  just  a  little  piteously.  "  He  was  very,  very  kind, 
and — and — what  has  he  done  to  make  you  so  cross  ?  " 

';  3Iy  dear  Decima,  you  must  not  ask  questions  which  I 
cannot  answer.  It  was  very  wrong  of  you  to  permit  a 
gentleman — a  stranger — to  walk  about  the  gardens  with 
you.  And  how  could  you  possibly  sit  there  and  take  tea 
with  him  ?  " 

"  I  was  thirsty  !  "  said  Decima,  simply. 

Lady  Lascelles  almost  groaned. 

"Decima,  you  are  nothing  better  than  a  child,  a  mere 
child  !  You  must  never  do  such  a  tiling  again  !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  What  harm  have  I  done  ?  "  insisted  the 
girl. 

"  It  is — it  is  not  usual ;  it  is  bad  etiquette,  manners, 
form,  to  walk  about  with  a  strange  man — to  take  tea  with 
him  is  worse.  Any  strange  gentleman  is  bad  enough. 
But  that  man  of  all  men  in  the  wide  world  !  " 

"  Why  was  it  worse  to  walk  about  and  sit  down  to  tea 
with  him  than  any  one  else,  aunt  ?  "  Decima  asked. 

Lady  Lascelles  bit  her  lip. 

"  Because — my  dear  girl,  you  would  not  understand — 

"  But,  aunt,  why  ?  " 

"  Because  he  is  a  bad,  wicked  man :  one  of  the  most 
wicked  men  in  the  world." 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  ONE  of  the  most  wicked  men  in  the  world  "  mean- 
while walked  slowly  across  the  Gardens  to  the  Clarence 
Gate,  and,  calling  a  cab,  told  the  man  to  drive  him  to 
Cavendish  Square.  Stopping  the  cab  at  the  house  of  Sir 
James  Starke,  he  inquired  if  the  great  physician  were  in, 
and  was  shown  into  the  consulting  room. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  15 

Sir  James  Starke  had  just  come  in  from  his  rounds,  and 
still  had  his  hat  on;  he  tilted  it  up  with  an  expression  of 
astonishment  at  sight  of  his  visitor. 

"  Hallo,  Gaunt !  "  he  said.  "I  didn't  know  you  were  in 
England!  How  are  you?  Sit  down.  Anything  the 
matter?"  As  he  shook  hands  he' surveyed  the  wear}', 
handsome  face  with  the  physician's  penetrating  gaze. 

Lord  Gaunt  took  off  his  coat  and  rolled  up  the  sleeve 
of  his  left  arm. 

"  Just  cauterize  that,  will  you,  Starke  ? "  he  said, 
-quietly. 

Sir  James  turned  the  arm  to  the  light — an  arm  well 
made  and  muscular,  hard  as  iron  and  smooth  as  marble. 

u  Why— what  is  it?"  he  said.  "A  dog  bite?"  No! 
Cat  scratch  ?  What  is  it  ?  " 

'  "  A  lion  scratch,"  said  Lord  Gaunt.  "  Got  it  at  the 
Zoo,  fooling  with  the  cub  I  brought  over.  It  isn't  much, 
but  it  felt  angry,  and — well,  I've  seen  a  nigger  or  two  go 
mad  with  blood  poisoning  for  less  than  this." 

Sir  James  nodded  gravely,  and  got  the  caustic. 

"It's  not  like  you  to  come  to  harm  in  this  way,  Gaunt," 
he  said.  ';  You  miust  have  been  very  card 

"  Yes,  I  was,"  said  Lord  Gaunt,  concisely. 

After  he  had  performed  the  simple  operation,  Sir  James 
looked  at  his  patient's  face  and  ran  a  finger  on  his  pulse. 
Then  he  shook  his  head. 

"  Same  old  game,  Gaunt !  "  he  said  gravely. 

Lord  Gaunt  smiled  grimly. 

"  Same  old  game,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"  Pity  !  pity  !  "  murmured  Sir  James.  "  Can't  you  do 
something  better  with  your  life  than  waste  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I've  never  asked  myself  the  question. 
Perhaps  I  don't  waste  my  life  more  than  you  waste  yours. 
It's  all  a  point  of  view,  you  know,  Starke." 

u  My  dear  fellow  !  "  expostulated  Starke,  the  great 
physician.  "  I  work,  earn  money— 

'•  And  I  lounge  and  laze  and  spend  it.  Who  shall  say 
which  is  the  wisest  ?  Life  is  just  a  chance  for  making 
mistakes — — " 

Sir  James  nodded  sympathetically. 

"  I  know  !  But — but — some  mistakes  are  lived  down — 
forgotten." 


10  HER  HEART'S  DKSIIJK. 

"  Xot  my  kind,"  said  Lord  Gaunt.  "  Done  with  this 
arm  V  Right.  Thanks/1 

He  rolled  down  his  sleeve  and  put  on  his  - 

••  Where-  have  you  come  from  now?"  asked  Sir  James, 
regarding  him  with  an  admiring  and  yet  pitying  rye. 
For  the  face  and  form  were  handsome  and  even  grand; 
but  the  expression  of  the  eye  and  the  mouth  was  that 
which  makes  women,  when  they  see  it,  sigh  and  grow 
sad — though  they  know  not  why. 

"Africa.     Think  I'm  going  back.     I  should  have  gone 
before  this,  but  my  man,  the   steward  at  Leaf  more,  lias 
been  worrying  me  ;  says  that  the  place  is  going  to  pi 
and  that  he  wants  me  to  go  down  there.     Let  it  go  to 
- !     Who  cares  ?     Certainly  not  I  !  " 

"  Why  not  go  down  there  and  try  and  settle  down  for 
a  time  ?""  said  Sir  James.  "  Look  here,  Gaunt ;  you  know 
the  old  story  of  the  machine  that  would  go  too  iV, 

"I  dare  say.  Stopped  all  at  once,  didn't  it?  And  you 
think  I  shall  stop,  like  the  machine.  Well,  why  not  'i 
What  does  it  matter  ?''  He  laughed  a  grim,  short  laugh. 
"You  doctors  think  life's  the  most  important  of  all 
things;  that's  where  you  make  the  mistake.  No  use 
offering  you  a  fee  I  suppose  ?  " 

The  famous  physician,  Sir  James  Starke,  and  the 
famous  traveler,  Lord  (Jaunt,  had  been  at  college  together 
— though  Sir  James  was  much  the  elder. 

Sir  James  laughed  and  shook  his  head. 

"Go  down  to  Leafmore  for  awhile,  Gaunt." 

"  I'll  see,"  said  his  lordship. 

.,    He  took  up  his  hat  and  held  it  in  his  hand.     Then  he 
said,  listlessly : 

"  Do  you  happen  to  know  a  Lady  Lascelles  ?  " 

"  Lady  Pauline  Lascelles,  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"I  dare  say." 

"  Oh,  yes !  She  is  a  patient  of  mine.  Why  do  you 
ask  ?  " 

"Oh!  for  no  particular  reason.  I  just  met  her.  Met 
a  niece  of  hers — a  Miss — Miss — singular  name  ;  I've  for- 
gotten it." 

"  You  mean  Decima  Deane  !"  said  Sir  James,  his  keen 
face  lighting  up.  "  Oh,  yes !  the  loveliest,  dearest  girl 
in  the  world  ! " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  17 

He  laughed  and  chuckled  as  at  some  private  joke. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  laughing  at  ? "  inquired 
(Jaunt,  with  languid  surprise. 

"  Oh !  at  the  girl,"  said  Sir  James.  "  You  know,  or, 
rather,  you  don't  know,  that  she  has  been  brought  up  by 
Lady  Lascelles  on  a  system  of  her  own —  I  mean  her  lady- 
ship's own.  Innocence,  absolute  innocence  and  purity, 
combined  with  a  knowledge  of  everything,  but — er — but 
the  things  most  girls  know  at  two-thirds  Decima's  age." 

"  All !  does  it  answer  ? "  asked  Lord  Gaunt,  looking 
into  his  hat. 

"Well — yes.  That  is  to  say,  the  system  has  produced 
the  sweetest  and  most  fascinating  mixture  of  frankness 
and  innocence  ;  the  audacity  of  a  child  and  the  sweetness 
of  a  girl.  But  how  will  it  answer  presently  when — when 
the  girl  suddenly  discovers  that  she  is  a  woman,  we  shall 
see.  Have  you  seen  much  of  her  ?  " 

"  About  one  hour  and  a  quarter,"  said  Lord  Gaunt, 
wearily.  "  And,  judging  from  Lady  Lascelles'  manner,  I 
am  not  likely  ever  to  make  up  the  other  three  quarters." 

"  And  weren't  you  struck  with  her  ?  " 

"  The  aunt  ?  " 

"  Dash  it  all,  no  !     The  girl — Decima  !  " 

"  Don't  know.     'Pon  my  word,  I  scarcely  noticed  her." 

He  yawned  and  took  out  his  cigarette  case. 

"  Good-by,  Starke.     I'll  think  over  your  advice." 

"  And  won't  take." 

"  I  daresay  not.     Good-by." 

He  left  the  house  and  walked  across  the  park  to  his 
flat  in  Prince's  Mansions.  Men  and  woman — especially 
the  latter — glanced  at  the  handsome,  listless  face  curiously, 
and  now  and  again  the  passers-by  said  something  like 
this  to  each  other  : 

"  That's  the  famous  Lord  Gaunt.  Great  traveler,  and — 
er — you  know." 

But  the  famous  Lord  Gaunt  strode  on,  taking  no  heed, 
his  eyes  fixed  before  him. 

His  flat  was  on  the  first  floor,  and  as  he  entered  the 
vestibule,  carpeted  with  lion  and  leopard  skins,  and  lined 
with  trophies  of  the  chase,  he  smelled  the  scent  of  a 
cigarette  coming  from  the  library. 

He  pushed  the  thick  oak  door  open,  and,  standing  on 


18  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

the  threshold,  looked  at  a  man  lying  full  length  on  the 
saddlebag  couch. 

The  man  rose  with  a  smile  and  a  "  Hallo,  Gaunt ! " 
And  Lord  Gaunt  stood  stock  still,  with  a  face  set  and 
white,  and  said  nothing. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  two  men  stood  and  looked  at  each  other ;  Lord 
Gaunt  white  and  stern ;  the  visitor  with  a  pleasant  but 
half-mocking  smile.  He  was  a  fair  man — one  of  those 
delicately  fair  men  whose  age  it  is  so  difficult  to  tell — 
with  a  good-looking,  almost  handsome  face,  with  bright, 
blue  eyes,  and  shapely  lips  which  were  not  concealed  by 
a  mustache,  but  seemed  together  with  the  eyes  to  say  : 
"  Believe  me,  my  owner  is  the  personification  of  innocence 
and  guilelessness  ;  he  has  nothing  to  conceal,  no  bad  con- 
science to  worry,  no  remorse  to  torture  him,  and  so  he 
faces  the  world  with  a  bland  and  child-like  smile  and 
wishes  all  men  well." 

This  is  what  the  face  had  been  trained  to  say,  and  it 
said  it  with  almost  invariable  success  ;  only  on  very  rare 
occasions  did  the  mask  slip  and  the  real  nature  behind  it 
reveal  itself ;  for,  with  all  his  smiling  lips  and  his  blue 
eyes,  Morgan  Thorpe  was  as  unscrupulous  a  villain,  as 
false  a  man,  as  ever  trod  this  villain-ridden  earth. 

He  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  light  tweed  which  fitted 
his  graceful  figure  to  perfection,  and  as  he  raised  his  hand 
—white  and  well-formed  as  a  woman's— and  lightly 
pushed  back  his  heavy  hair,  which  had  been  ruffled  by 
the  silken  sofa  cushion,  a  splendid  ring  shone  on  the  taper 
finger. 

The  two  men  formed  a  marked  contrast.  Lord  Gaunt, 
with  his  classical  face,  tragic  and  almost  awe-inspiring 
in  its  whiteness  and  sternness,  with  his  dark  eyes  lit  as 
1  >y  a  smouldering  fire ;  the  other  man,  fair  and  debon- 
naire,  with  the  smile  of  an  audacious  child — or  a  heartless 
woman  laughing  as  she  wounds. 

It  was  Morgan  Thorpe  who  spoke  first. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  he  said,  in  a  voice  low,  soft  and 
musical. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  19 

Lord  Gaunt's  eyes  remained  fixed  on  the  pleasant,  boy- 
ish f: 

"  You  have  found  me,"  he  said,  with  that  kind  of  calm 
which  comes  to  the  brave  man  in  supreme  moments. 

Morgan  Thorpe  laughed. 

u  My  dear  fellow  !  How  curt !  How  brusque !  Is  this 
the  way  in  which  to  receive  an  old  friend  who  has  been 
searching  for  you  for — how  many  weary  months — years  ?" 

Lord  Gaunt  placed  his  hat  on  the  table,  and,  going  to 
the  fern-filled  fireplace,  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  mantel 
and  regarded  his  visitor  steadily. 

"  How  did  you  find  me  ?  "  he  asked,  as  a  man  asks  of 
the  physician  how  he  had  discovered  the  fatal  disease. 

Tiie  other  man  dropped  back  on  the  couch,  stretched 
out  his  hand  to  the  cigarette  box  of  sandalwood  which 
stood  on  the  table  within  reach,  took  a  cigarette  and 
smiled  up  at  Gaunt's  stern,  set  face. 

"  My  dear  Barnard — I  beg  your  pardon,  I  should  say, 
my  dear  Lord  Gaunt ! — why  do  you  glare  at  me  so  re- 
proachfully and  like  a  Banquo's  ghost  ?  "  he  said,  with 
the  soft  voice  pitched  in  a  tone  of  banter  which  made 
Gaunt's  teeth  close  tightly  and  caused  his  hands  to  clinch 
at  his  side.  "  It  is  I  who  ought  to  look  black  and  over- 
whelm you  with  reproaches !  Just  think  of  it !  Two 
years  ago  " 

Gaunt's  face  worked,  but  his  voice  was  stern  and  cold 
as  he  broke  in  : 

"  There  is  no  need  to  go  back  to  the  past " 

"  Pardon  me ;  but  I  really  think  there  is !  "  retorted 
Morgan  Thorpe,  stretching  himself  luxuriously  like  a  cat 
on  a  soft  hearth-rug.  "  Your  manner  is  so — what  shall  I 
say  ? — inhospitable,  not  to  say  repellent — that  I  feel  it  to 
be  necessary  to  state  the  case — shall  we  say  the  plain- 
tiff ?  " 

Gaunt  did  not  move  a  limb,  or  the  eyes  which  rested 
upon  the  face  upturned  to  him. 

"  What  is  the  case  ?  "  continued  Morgan  Thorpe,  deli- 
cately knocking  the  ash  from  his  cigarette  on  to  the  in- 
laid table.  "  Three  years  ago  " — he  half  closed  his  eyes 
and  regarded  the  white-faced  man  before  him  through 
the  narrow  slits  as  fr  cat  regards  a  wretched  mouse  lying 
between  her  paws — "you  and  I,  and  another,  who  shall 


20  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

be  nameless,  were  the  closest  friends.  We  had  met  a.s 
fellow  travelers  in  an  Alpine  pass — Alpine  pass  sounds 
quite  * novelish,'  doesn't  it'?  I  like  the  sound:  Alpine 
pass !  We  spent  the  night  with  sundry  guides  and 
porters  in  a  snowbound  hut.  The  acquaintance  thus 
pleasantly  commenced  ripened  into  a  friendship  which  I 
trust  may  continue " 

Gaunt  made  a  gesture  of  impatience ;  but  Morgan 
Thorpe  only  smiled,  as  the  cat  might  smile  at  the  con- 
tortions of  the  mouse. 

"  You  are  traveling  alone  and  are  solitary.  I  have  my 
sister  with  me — a  charming  girl,  whom  to  see  and  to 
know  is  to — love." 

Gaunt  bit  his  lip  and  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  You  see,  you  learn  to  know,  you  love  her !  For 
reasons  best  known  to  yourself  you  travel  incog.  You 
state  that  your  name  is  Edward  Barnard,  a  gentleman 
of  independent  means  traveling  for  pleasure  and  instruc- 
tion. As  Edward  Barnard  you  lay  siege  to  my  sister's 
heart,  and  you  take  by  storm  that  precious  citadel.'' 

Gaunt  shifted  one  foot,  but  his  eyes  never  left  the 
smiling,  mocking  face.  As  the  tortured  man  on  the  rack 
watches  the  executioner,  so  he  watched  Morgan  Thorpe. 

"  The  lady  is,  of  course,  virtuous.  There  is  only  one 
road  to  happiness — the  path  which  leads  to  matrimony 
— and,  as  Edward  Barnard,  you  take  it.  You  and  the 
beauteous  Laura  are  married  at  the  little  English  church 
at  Vevey,  on — what  is  the  dai 

Lord  Gaunt  remained  stonily  silent.  He  was  like  the 
figure  of  the  Sphinx  in  his  set  calmm 

"  Xo  matter  ;  I  have  the  date  on  the  certificate  in  my 
pocketbook".  You  are  married,  with  all  the  forms  and 
ceremonies  prescribed  by  rigid  Law  and  exacting  Church, 
and  you  set  out  for  your  honeymoon  !  Alas,  it  is  a  short 
honeymoon.  Before  it  has  scarce  begun  to  wane  you— 

Gaunt's  self-restraint  seemed  to  fail  him  at  this  point, 
and  he  broke  in,  with  scarcely  repressed  passion : 

"I  discovered  that  the  woman  I  had  married  was  an 
adventuress — a  woman  who ' 

"  Pardon ! "  said  Morgan  Thorpe,  softly,  sweetly. 
"  Remember  I  am  the  brother  and  spare  me  !  Do  not  let 
us  indulge  in  recriminations ;  it  is  childish,  useless.  Let 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  21 

us  say  that  you  discovered  that  there  was  such  an  incom- 
patibility of  temper  that  you  found  it  impossible  to  live 
with  her.  Shall  we  put  it  that  way  ?  " 

Lord  Gaunt  made  no  response,  and  the  swift  and  mu- 
sical voice  went  on. 

"  One  day  you  left  your  wife,  your  bride — my  dear 
fellow,  how  could  you  be  so  heartless  ? — with  the  intima- 
tion that  you  did  not  intend  to  return.  She  was  heart- 
broken, desolate  !  Xot  even  the  addendum  to  your  letter 
which  informed  her  that  a  liberal  allowance  would  be 
paid  to  her  while  she  refrained  from  molesting  you  con- 
soled her.  Alas  !  she  loved  you." 

Lord  Gaunt  moved  slightly,  and  a  grim  smile  played  on 
his  lips  for  a  moment,  to  be  followed  by  the  set  sternness 
which  had  dominated  his  expression  hitherto. 

"  She  loved  you.  She  charged  me  with  the  task  of 
following  and  finding  you.  I,  as  her  devoted  brother,  ac- 
cepted that  task.  My  dear  Barnard,  these  Turkish  ciga- 
rettes of  yours  are  dry — very  dry  ! " 

Lord  Gaunt  went  to  the  sideboard  and  got  out  a  spirit 
case  and  a  siphon,  and  placed  them  on  the  table. 

«  \Vill  you  not  join  me  ?  "  asked  Thorpe.  "  Xo  ?  Well, 
I  am  doing  all  the  talking— and  talking  is  thirsty  work." 

He  sipped  the  beverage  with  slow,  exasperating  slow- 
ness, and  Gaunt  watched  him  with  a  fierce,  burning  im- 
patience. The  man's  presence,  his  voice,  were  an  absolute 
torture. 

"  I  commenced  my  search,"  said  Morgan  Thorpe.  -•  I 
try,  first,  the  South  of  France.  It  is  the  winter — you  will 
remember — but  nowhere  do  I  find  a  handsome  man  by  the 
name  of  Barnard — you  are  devilish  good-looking,  you 
know,  Barnard — a  hundred  pardons — Lord  Gaunt— and 
then  I  come  to  London.  As  well  look  for  a  needle  in  a 
bundle  of  hay  as  look  for  a  man  in  this  place,  I  like 
London  ;  I  love  it,  excepting  when  1  am  011  the  hunt  for 
a  man.  Then  it  is  a  beastly  maze.  At  last  one  day — to 
be  particular,  we  must  speak  by  the  card,  as  Hamlet  says 
—what  a  lot  of  Hamlets  I  have  seen  ! — I  happen  actually 
to  see  you — you  yourself,  going  into  this  very  house!" 

He  laughed  softly  and  blew  the  smoke  from  his  ciga- 
rette in  a  series  of  rings  and  watched  them  with  lazy  in- 
terest and  amusement  as  they  floated  to  the  ceiling. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"I  rang  the  hell  and  knocked  as  directed,  and  inquired 
for  '  Mr.  Barnard.'  No  one  knew  the  name.  Then  I 
wa  tolled  again,  and  inquired  again,  and  descrihed  you. 
And  I  found  that  instead  of  a  plain,  common  'Mr.  Bar- 
nard/ my  sister,  my  dearly-heloved  sister,  for  whom  I 
would  lay  down  my  life,  had  married  no  less  a  personage 
than  my  Lord  Gaunt." 

Gaunt  took  up  a  cigar  from  the  mantel  and  lit  it,  but 
after  a  moment  he  flung  it  among  the  ferns  in  the  grate, 
and  resumed  his  old  attitude. 

Morgan  Thorpe  turned  on  his  side  into  a  more  com- 
fortable position. 

"  Yes  ;  I  found  that  my  dear  sister  had  married  no  less 
a  personage  than  Lord  Gaunt — Baron  of  the  United  King- 
dom, Earl  Gaunt  of  Ireland,  Viscount  Bascardine  of 
Scotland,  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Downshire." 

(Jaunt  moved  his  hand  spasmodically;  but  the  soft, 
musical  voice  went  on  with'  the  even  flow  of  the  river. 

k-  Vfith  residences  in  Devonshire  and  Scotland,  a  house 
in  Park  Lane,  and  an  Italian  palace  on  the  banks  of  the 
Arno." 

Gaunt  turned  from  the  fern -filled  fireplace  and  strode 
across  the  room,  then  came  back  to  his  old  place  and  at- 
titude, and  Morgan  Thorpe  still  watched  him  as  the  cat 
watches  the  mouse  when  it  ventures  a  despairing  run. 

"  This  was  the  man  who  had  married  my  sister  and 
heartlessly  abandoned  her!  Lord  Gaunt,  baron,  Scotch 
earl,  lord-lieutenant ;  in  a  word,  a  nobleman  of  the  highest 
rank,  and  worth — shall  we  say  a  million  of  mo; 

Gaunt  took  up  a  cigar  again  and  lit  it  with  the  stoicism 
of  desperation. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  said,  grimly.     "  Having  made  your  di 
ery,  what  do  you  propose  to  do 't  " 

Morgan  Thorpe  leaned  back  and  closed  his  eyes. 

"  An   eminently    practical  question !  "    he   murmured. 

"  It  is  the  question  I  have  been  asking  myself  ever  since 
I  have  been  here,  my  dear  Barnard— pardon !-  Lord 
Gaunt.  Two  courses  are  open  to  me,  as  a  famous  stai 
man  might  say.  I  might  go  to  my  sister,  the  mourning 
bride  so  to  speak,  and  acquaint  her  with  my  discovery. 
Whereupon  she  would  of  course  hasten  to  England  and 
clakn  her  husband.  Ah,  my  dear  Barnard— pardon  ! 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  23 

Gaunt — you  have  no  conception  of  the  extent  of  the  love 
our  dear  Laura  bears  for  you  !  She. would  claim  her  hus- 
band and  insist  upon  taking  her  place  in  the  world  of 
rank,  and  fashion,  which,  as  you  know,  she  would  adorn 
so  conspicuously."  He  smiled  up  at  the  white,  strained 
face  mockingly.  "  And  I  have  a  very  strong  conviction 
that  she  would  make  things  hum,  as  our  Yankee  cousins 
say.'' 

He" closed  his  eyes  and  smiled,  as  if  at  some  mental 
picture. 

"  The  other  course,  as  the  famous  statesman  would  say, 
which  presented  itself  to  me  was  one  of  caution  and — er 
— reserve.  Nothing  is  more  disagreeable  than  to  live 
with  a  person  who  is  completely  uncongenial,  and  I  felt 
that  I  should  be  doing  you  a  signal  service  if  I  were  to 
conceal  your  identity  and  whereabouts  from  our  clear 
Laura.  In  other  words,  my  friend,  I  felt  that  I  should 
be  proving  the  warm  affection  I  cherish  for  you  if  I  were 
to  say  nothing  about  my  discovery." 

< -Jaunt  raised  his  head. 

"  You  would  betray  her  trust  in  you  ?  "  he  said. 

Morgan  Thorpe  smiled  and  shrugged  his  shoulders — 
shrugged  them  so  hard  that  he  displaced  the  cushions  and 
had  to  rearrange  them  before  replying. 

"As  to  that — what  is  confidence  and  wiiat  is  betraying 
it  V  Ethical  questions  both,  my  dear  Gaunt " 

Gaunt  strode  across  the  room  again. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  he  asked  hoarsely. 

"  At  Vevey,"  replied  Morgan  Thorpe.  "  A  most  charm- 
ing place — but  dull,  devilish  dull.  She  is  there  amusing 
herself  as  best  she  can,  and  awaiting  the  result  of  my 
search. '  I  have  only  to  wire  '•  found  him  ;  come  to  London ; 
the  Metropole,' and  she  will  be  here  in  less  than  thirty-six 
hours." 

Gaunt  sank  into  a  chair,  then  stood  up  again,  as  if  re- 
luctant to  show  any  sign  of  weariness.  "  On  the  other 
hand,-'  continued  Morgan  Thorpe,  '- 1  have  only  to  write, 
*  Cannot  find  him ;  believe  he  has  left  the  country,'  and 
she  will  remain  at  that  God-forsaken  hole,  or  go  to  Paris." 

Gaunt  looked  at  him  steadily. 

"  If  she  came,  she  would  not  find  me  here,"  he  said, 
"  I  shall  start  for  Africa  in  a  few  hours'  time." 


24  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Morgan  Thorpe  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  laughed 
softly. 

"  My  dear  Lord  Gaunt,  she  would  not  care  whether  she 
found  you  or  not — whether  you  were  here,  or  baking  on 
Africa's  burning  sands.  She  would  be  quite  happy  set- 
ting up  her  claim  to  be  my  Lady  Gaunt,  Baroness  of 
Gaunt,  Countess  of  Gaunt,  of  Ireland,  Viscountess  Bas- 
eardine  of  Scotland  !  That  would  be  quite  enough  am; 
nu'Ut  for  her." 

(.rau nt  went  to  a  bookcase,  and  stared  at  a  row  of  books 
without  seeing  them.  Then  he  came  back  to  the  fireplace. 

'•  You  mean  to  blackmail  me,"  he  said,  with  an  awful 
calmness.  "How  much  do  you  want?  Say  as  quickly 
Miul  shortly  as  you  can — for  my  temper  is  rough  and  I  can 
.scarcely  hold  myself  in  hand." 

"  My  dear  Barnard  !  "  jeered  the  other. 

Lord  Gaunt  sprang  across  the  room  and  seized  him  by 
the  throat,  and  the  soft  mocking  laughter  ceased  with  gro- 
tesque suddenness. 

"How  much,  you  devil?"  he  said,  between  his  teeth. 
"  You  and  she  have  me  in  your  power — I  kmnv  it.  Xame 
your  price !  " 

Then,  ashamed  of  himself,  he  flung  the  man  from  him 
and  strode  away,  his  own  face  working,  his  lips  livid,  as 
if  it  had  been  himself  who  had  been  half  choked. 

Morgan  Thorpe,  struggling  for  breath,  fell  his  throat 
tenderly. 

"  What — what  a  savage  you  are !  "  he  said,  huskily. 
"  Xo  wonder  my  poor  sister — 

"  Say  no  more !  "  broke  in  Gaunt,  with  an  ominous 
gesture.  "Nothing  will  induce  me  lo  acknowledge  your 
sister  as  my  wife,  and  you  know  it.  Xame  your  price— 
the  price  of  your  silence — 

Morgan  Thorpe  stood  up,  and  with  rather  a  shaky  hand 
look  a  fresh  drink. 

"  You  mean  my  price  for  concealing  your  identity?  " 
he  said. 

"  For  holding  your  tongue — yes  ?  "  he  said. 

u  Well,"  drawled  Thorpe,  "  suppose  we  say  a  couple  of 
thousand  pounds  ?  " 

(taunt  looked  at  him  with  loathing  eyes  for  a  moment; 
then  he  went  to  his  writing-table,  unlocked  a  drawer,  and 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  25 

took  out  a  check  book.  He  filled  in  the  check,  laid  it  on 
the  table,  and  pointed  to  it. 

"That  is  for  a  thousand  pounds,"  he  said.  "  I  will  pay 
you  that  every  year,  so  long  as  I  am  unmolested  by— 

"  Your  wife,  Lady  Gaunt,"  said  Morgan  Thorpe.  "  I 
agree !  Leave  the  matter  to  me,  my  dear  Barnard — tush  ! 
how  the  old  name  clings  !  I'll  undertake  to  keep  her 
quiet.  Xow,  shall  we  dine  together  V  " 

Gaunt  opened  the  door.  • 

"  For  God's  sake,  go !  "  he  said,  very  quietly — with  the 
quietude  of  a  man  goaded  almost  beyond  the  point  of  en- 
durance. "  Go  before  I  do  you  any  harm  !  " 

Morgan  Thorpe  looked  at  the  white  face,  with  its  veins 
.standing  out ;  at  the  stalwart,  muscular  figure,  with  the 
strength  of  a  Hercules,  and  laughed. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  only  wanted  to  be  friendly  !  But 
if  yen  will  not —  Well,  so  long  !  " 

He  put  his  hat  on  with  careful  precision,  adjusted  his 
necktie  in  the  Venetian  mirror  beside  the  door,  and  then 
held  out  his  hand. 

Gaunt  looked  at  the  hand  ;  then  raised  his  smouldering 
eyes  to  the  mocking  blue  ones,  and  something  in  the  lam- 
Itent  fire  of  the  eyes  of  the  man  he  had  been  torturing, 
prompted  Morgan  Thorpe  to  make  his  exit  without  an 
attempt  at  another  turn  of  the  rack. 

"  So  long,  dear  boy  ! "  he  murmured,  and  passed  out. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IF  you  do  not  want  a  girl  to  get  interested  in  a  man, 
never  tell  her  that  he  is  wicked.  To  an  innocent  young 
girl  wickedness  is  a  mystery,  and  all  mysteries  are 
fascinating. 

Decima  was  very  quiet  as  the  carriage,  with  its  fat  slugs 
of  horses,  boAvled  smoothly  home  to  Lady  Pauline  Las- 
celles'  house  in  Berkeley  Square.  As  a  rule,  she  looked  out 
of  the  window  with  eager  efy'es  and  asked  endless  ques- 
tions ;  but  this  evening  the  gray-blue  orbs  were  dreamy, 
and  there  was  a  little  line  of  disappointment  about  the 
mobile  lips. 


itt  HER   HEARTS  DESIRE. 

That  very  evening  at  dinner  Deciina  learned  from  her 
aunt  tliat  her  father  had  sent  for  her— that  he  needed  her 

at  home.  This  information  shocked  her,  it  was  so  sudden. 
Her  la-art  ached  at  the  thought  of  leaving  the  woman 
who  for  the  past  ten  years  had  been  a  mother  to  her.  Lady 
Pauline  informed  her  that  her  father,  who  had  long  been 
a  visionary  and  a  dreamer,  was  at  last  sanguine  that  one 
of  his  many  inventions  was  likely  to  prove  a  great 

Slier 

It  was  a  tearful  parting  that  occurred  the  next  day 
ween  the  aunt  and  niece.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the 
train  drew  up  at  Shelton  Wold,  and  Decimal  brother 
met  her  at  the  station.  Both  had  grown  so  during  the 
last  ten  years  that  each  was  astonished  at  the  change  in 
the  other. 

A  fly  was  at  hand,  and  as  this  rolled  off  from  the 
station,  Bobby  Deane,the  seventeen-year-old  brother,  told 
his  sister  of  the  many  strange  things  concerning  her 
father's  household. 

"We  are  pestered  to  death  with  ignorant  and  ea: 
servants"  he  said,  "and  we    change  them  aboui 
other  week.   AVe  have  cooks  who  would  not  ivi-i.gnixe  a  po- 
tato if  they  met  it  in  the  street ;  waiting  maids  who  kindly 
permit  us  to  do  all  the  waiting  while  they  talk  with  their 
young  men  at  the  back  kitchen  door.     We  have  just  got 
rid  of  one  young  lady  who  looked  upon  the  wine  cup  too 
often,  and  was  found  by  the  unfortunate  individual  who 
addresses  you, lying  under  the  kitchen  dr,  .[tiarter 

of  an  hour  before  dinner  time.  We  have  at  present  what 
I  believe  is  called  'a  demon  breaker;'  she  has  a  pleasant 
but  slightly  inconvenient  habit  of  collecting  all  the  glass 
and  china  on  a  tray  and  slipping  up  on  it.  We  have  no 
tumblers  left,  and  only  a  coffee  cup  and  a  mug.  S]: 
under  notice,  and  I  left  her  in  tears,  wailing  that  she  had 
no  mother.  If  she  had,  sheYl  tumble  over  her,  and  break 
her." 

Heeima  looked  half  aghast  through  her  laughter. 

•'.My  dear  Hobby  !    My  puor  Hobby  !   And  poor  father !  '' 

"lie  doesn't  mind,  doesn't  care.      He  is  up  in  the  clouds 

all  the  time.     Dreaming,  inventing  things   to  make    his 

fortune.      He  doesn't  eat— he  only  stokes.      I'm  not  sure 

that  he  sleeps.     At  any  rate,  he's  perfectly   indifferent  to 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  27 

anything  and  everything ;  and  the  house  can  go  to  smith- 
ereens so  that  one  room — his  laboratory  and  study — is 
left  standing.  See?" 

"  Poor  Bobby  !  And  all  the  time  I  have  been  living  & 
life  of  luxury  and  ease " 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right !  "  said  Bobby,  quickly  and  gen- 
erously. "  You  can't  help  having  a  father  utterly  unlike 
any  other  male  parent  in  the  world  !  no  more  can  I.  And 
I'm  jolly  glad  you've  been  out  of  it  all  this  time.  In  fact, 
I  was  dead  against  the  guv'nor  sending  for  you ;  but — 
well,  he  makes  up  his  mind  now  and  again  and  when  he 
does  he  makes  it  up  into  such  a  jolly  stiff  parcel  that 
there  is  110  undoing  it." 

"  I  am  glad,  glad  he  sent  for  me,"  said  Decie.  "  But, 
Bobby,  I — I  am  afraid  I  don't  know  much  about  hoiise- 
keeping." 

"  You  couldn't  possibly  know  less  or  make  more  of  a 
muddle  of  the  show  than  we  are  doing,"  said  Bobbie,  en- 
couragingly. "  But,  upon  my  word,  I'm  sorry  for  you, 
Decie  !  I'm  afraid  you  won't  like  the  change  from — 
how  did  you  put  it  V — a  life  of  luxury  and  ease  with  Lady 
Pauline,  to  slave-driving  at  Woodbines." 

"  Oh,  what  a  pretty  place,  Bobby  !  "  exclaimed  Decima, 
as  the  fly  pulled  up  at  a  tall  iron  gate  opening  on  to  an 
old-fashioned  garden  in  front  of  a  red-bricked,  ivy-covered 
house. 

"  Glad  you  like  it.  Behold  the  Woodbines — the  res- 
idence of  Peter  Deane,  Esq.,  and  your  home,  my  dear 
sister." 

Decima  jumped  out  of  the  fly  and  went  up  the  path. 
The  door  of  the  house  was  open,  and  even  as  she  entered 
the  square,  old-fashioned  hall,  the  sound  of  a  falling  plate 
and  the  crash  of  the  breaking  thereof  were  heard. 

"  Sarah  Jane's  welcome  to  her  young  mistress !  "  said 
Bobby,  gravely. 

Decima  smiled  and  looked  round  a  little  nervously. 

"  AYhere  is  my  father  ?  "  she  asked,  and  she  moved  to- 
ward the  door  of  the  drawing-room. 

"  Oh,  I'll  take  you  to  him.  There's  only  one  place  in 
which  he  can  possibly  be.  Follow  me,  and  mind  the 
step,  and  the  pail  which  is  almost  sure  to  be  on  it,  and 
over  which  I  break  my  shin  with  painful  frequency." 


28  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

He  pushed  open  a  baize  door,  went  down  a  narrow 
passage — just  here  Decima  heard  the  parlor-maid  explain- 
ing to  the  cook  how  she  had  dropped  the  plate.  "It 
slipped  out  o'  my  'and  as  if  it  was  a  piece  o'  'ot  butter,  it 
did,  I  do  assure  you,  cook  ! " — and  knocked  at  a  thick 
oak  door,  through  which,  though  it  was  tightly  closed, 
came  sundry  and  various  odors,  all  of  them  wondrously 
strange  and  extraordinarily  powerful. 

A  voice  which  seemed  to  come  from  a  distance,  said, 
impatiently,  "  Come  in  !  "  and  Decima  and  Bobby  entered , 

It  was  a  large  room,  lined  with  numerous  shelves,  on 
which  stood,  in  a  gorgeous  litter,  books,  retorts,  instru- 
ments, plaster  casts,  models  of  every  description.  A 
small  furnace  was  blazing  away  in  one  corner,  a  forge 
and  lathe  were  conspicuous  in  the  center  of  the  room. 
There  were,  also,  a  carpenter's  bench,  and  a  modeling 
table,  an  electro-plating  battery — and,  in  short,  a  collec- 
tion of  tools,  models,  instruments  and  general  lumber, 
which  would  have  fitted  out  a  country  museum  or  a, 
workshop  in  Bedlam. 

Working  at  the  bench  stood  a  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves  ; 
his  hair,  long  and  gray,  half  falling  over  his  huge  fore- 
head ;  he  was  dressed  in  a  shabby  old  suit  of  a  fashion 
ten  years  back,  wore  no  collar  and  stood  in  a  pair  of  thick 
carpet  slippers  at  least  two  sizes  too  large  for  him. 

Decima  stared  at  him,  pale  and  a  little  tremulous.  She 
scarcely  remembered  him! 

'•Here's  Decima.  father!''  said  Bobby. 

Mr.  I  KM  1  up.  pushed  the  hair  from  his  fore- 

head and  blinked  at  the  beautiful  vision. 

"Decima?"  he  said.  "Decima?  Where  is  she?  Has 
this  lady  brought  her?" 

"  This  lady  " — began  Bobby;  but  Decima,  with  a  little 
cry  and  a  gusli  of  tears  to  her  eyes,  which  made  her  \vay 
rather  uncertain,  ran  to  the  strange  object  and  put  her 
arm  round  his  neck. 

"  Father,  I  am  Decima.     Don't  you  know  me  ?  " 

"God  bless  my  soul!  Is  it  really?"  he  said,  with  a. 
dreamy  amazement.  -"How — how  you've  grown!"  He 
looked  at  her  abstractedly  for  a  moment,  then  he  sighed. 
"  You're  like  your  mother  " — he  said — "  it  might  be  she. 

Decima  leaned  against  the  bench  and  held  his  hand. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  29 

"  I  am  glad  I  am  like  my  mother,"  she  said.  "  I  am 
glad  to  come  home,  father." 

"  Oh,  take  care,  take  care !  "  he  said,  with  sudden  anxi- 
ety. "  You're  leaning  against  my  model — the  model ! 
I'm  afraid  it  will  break — er — er — thank  you  !  "  He  took 
the  model  from  behind  her  and  drew  a  breath  of  relief. 
«'  Not  broken !  Thank  God !  "  he  murmured.  "  And  so 
you're — Deci  ma " 

But  his  eyes  Avere  fixed  on  the  model  as  he  carried  it 
to  a  place  of  safety,  and  not  on  her. 

And  this  was  Decima's  homecoming.  •  And  these  two, 
the  half-crazy  man  and  the  boy,  were  all  she  had  to  pro- 
tect her  from  "  the  dragons  by  the  way  ! " 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  first  dinner  of  whicli  Decima  partook  at  the 
Woodbines  convinced  her  that  Bobby's  statements  re- 
garding the  servants  had  not  been  exaggerated.  It  was 
wretchedly  cooked,  and  served  in  a  slovenly  way.  At  its 
close  Bobby  proposed  a  stroll  in  the  moonlight.  A  short 
walk  brought  them  in  sight  of  a  gloomy  mansion  of 
white  stone,  faced  with  white  pillars  and  sentineled  on 
three  sides  by  a  number  of  fir  trees .  She  learned  from 
her  brother  that  this  was  the  habitation  of  Mr.  Theodore 
Mershon,  a  keen,  dark-eyed  little  man,  who  was  con- 
sidered something  of  a  parvenu. 

As  brother  and  sister  strolled  near  the  entrance  to 
"  The  Firs,"  as  the  place  was  designated,  the  owner,  a 
smooth-faced  young  man,  was  standing  just  inside  the 
gate,  smoking  a  cigar.  He  took  off  his  hat  rather  super- 
ciliously to  Bobby,  but,  seeing  a  rather  handsome  lady 
with  him,  his  manner  at  once  became  quite  affable. 
Bobby  introduced  him  to  his  sister,  and  Mr.  Mershon 
strove  to  ingratiate  himself  into  the  favor  of  the  young 
lady.x  He  spoke  of  the  natural  charms  of  Shelton,  of  the 
many  delightful  spots  in  the  vicinity,  and  begged  the 
privilege  of  having  Bobby  and  his  father  to  dinner  some 
night.  "  Of  course  the  invitation  includes  Miss  Deane," 
he  concluded,  with  a  glance  of  admiration  at  Decima. 

Bobby  thought  this  was  rather  an  informal  and  abrupt 


30  HER  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

invitation,  and  he  replied  to  it  by  stating  that  he  was  not 
just  then  prepared  to  announce  his  aeeeptanec  of  it.  As 
brother  and  sister  passed  on,  Mershon  watched  them  with 
fascinated  interest. 

"  What  a  lovely  creature  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Fancy 
that  old  maniac  having  a  daughter  like  tlr 

Brother  and  sister  strolled  on,  unconscious  of  the  man's 
admiration,  and  presently  turned  du\vn  a  narrow  lane. 
Suddenly  they  came  upon  the  entrance  to  an  avenue 
guarded  by  a  pair  of  old  iron  gates.  An  ivy-covered 
lodge  of  red  brick  stood  just  inside  the  gate,  and  it  was 
so  venerable  and  romantic  in  appearance  that  it  evoked 
an  exclamation  of  admiration  from  Deeima. 

A  small  wooden  gate  at  some  distance  from  the  lodge 
afforded  an  entrance  through  the  stone  wall  that  guarded 
the  grounds  at  this  point,  and  through  this  Bobby  led 
his  sister.  They  passed  along  a  winding  avenue,  and  a 
turn  of  the  road  presently  brought  to  view  the  grand  and 
spacious  old  mansion  known  as  Leafmore.  "  What  a 
magnificent  place  !  "  exclaimed  Deeima.  "  But  the  win- 
dows are  all  dark.  Who  lives  there  'J.  " 

"  Xo  one.  This  estate  belongs  to  a  man  named  Gaunt 
—Lord  Gaunt.  He  is  enormously  rich,  it  is  said,  but  he 
has  not  been  here  for  years.  Gossip  proclaims  that  he 
doesn't  bear  the  best  of  reputations." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he  is  a  bad  man  ?  "     . 

"  That  is  the  popular  impression.  Although  I  have 
never  seen  Lord  Gaunt,  I  am  well  acquainted  with  his 
steward,  Mr.  Bright ;  and  he  says  that  his  master,  while 
he  has  some  faults,  is  a  fine  fellow.  In  fact,  Bright  as- 
sured me  that  Lord  Gaunt's  conduct  was  all  that  it  should 
be  until  something  suddenly  happened  to  change  him. 
What  it  was  he  doesn't  know.  Something  with  a  woman 
in  it,  I  suppose." 

"  A  woman  !  "  said  Deeima,  musingly. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  excuse  generally  given.  But  it's  no 
business  of  ours.  Yet  it  is  a  pity  that  such  a  pretty  place 
should  be  permitted  to  go  to  ruin.  I  come  here  frequently 
to  fish  in  the  little  stream  you  see  yonder,  glistening  in 
the  moonlight." 

On  the  following  afternoon  at  about  five  o'clock  Bobby 
and  Deeima  once  more  visited  Leafinory,  the  brother  with 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  31 

the  intention  of  engaging  in  his  favorite  pursuit  of  fish- 
ing and  the  sister  to  enjoy  the  opportunity  of  inspecting 
the  attractions  of  the  place  by  daylight. 

While  Bobby  prepared  his  flies,  close  to  the  lodge, 
Decima  wandered  down  the  avenue,  picking  the  wild 
flowers  which  grew  along  the  border.  Bobby  was  about 
to  start  toward  the  river  when  he  was  suddenly  aroused 
by  a  clinking  sound.  He  looked  up  and  saw  a  gentleman 
shaking  the  big  entrance  gates. 

Boylike,  he  watched  him  for  a  moment  or  two  with 
bland  enjoyment ;  then  he  shouted,  "  Hi !  " 

The  gentleman  looked  around,  saw  the  recumbent 
figure,  and  said,  "  Well  ?  " 

"  Gate's  locked,"  remarked  Bobby,  in  his  concise  fash- 
ion. "  There's  a  door  here" — he  indicated  the  lower  gate, 
"  if  you  want  to  come  in." 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  gentleman,  and  he  came  along  to 
the  wall,  passed  through  the  other  g°te,  and  stood  beside 
the  lad,  looking  down  at  him. 

"  That  big  gate's  always  kept  locked,"  said  Bobby. 

"  Indeed  ? "  said  the  gentleman.  "  I  am  a  stranger 
here  ;  I  didn't  know." 

Bobby  looked  at  him  casually. 

"  Are  you  going  to  see  the  house  ? "  he  said.  "  It's 
worth  seeing — the  carving  and  pictures  especially." 

u  Are  they  ?"  responded  the  gentleman.  "Do  you  live 
here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no — that  is,  not  at  the  house.  I  live  in  the  vil- 
lage, but  I  know  it  very  well." 

After  bidding  the  gentleman  good- day  Bobby  strode 
off  rod  in  hand,  in  the  direction  of  the  river.  As  he 
passed  on  he  shouted  to  his  sister. 

"  All  right !  "  she  called  back,  "  I  will  follow  you. 
Here  are  the  loveliest  cowslips  !  I  must  get  a  bunch." 

"  Very  well ;  follow  the  track,"  he  shouted  back,  and 
went  on  his  way,  whistling. 

The  gentleman  looked  after  him,  then  sat  down  on  the 
bank,  took  out  his  cigar  case,  and  lit  a  cigar. 

The  match  was  still  in  his  hand  when  Decima  came, 
with  light,  fleet  steps,  down  the  avenue. 

She  was  arranging  her  flowers  as  she  came,  and  did 
not  see  him  until  she  was  close  upon  him.  Then  she 


32  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

• 

paused  a  moment,  and  glanced  at  him,  with  a  faint  sur- 
prise, and  was  passing  on  again,  when  he  rose  and  raised 
his  hat. 

She  stopped  short,  with  a  slight  cry  of  recognition  and 
astonishment  on  her  lips ;  for  she  saw  -that  it  was  the 
gentleman  who  had  befriended  her  at  the  Zoo. 

He  had  recognized  her  at  the  first  moment,  and  his 
eyes  rested  on  her  face  inquiringly,  as  if  lie  were  half 
curious  to  see  what  she  would  do. 

lie  had  not  long  to  wait.  With  a  touch  of  color  in  her 
cheeks,  and  a  shy,  embarrassed  expression  in  her  eyes, 
Decima  looked  at  him,  then  looked  beyond  him,  over  his 
head,  and  passed  on  without  a  sign  of  recognition. 

(iaunt  smiled  grimly,  and  stood  like  a  soldier,  erect  and 
unbending,  his  eyes  fixed  on  her,  as  if  the  cut  direct 
amused  rather  than  wounded  him. 

As  she  passed  on,  her  lovely  face  set  and  cold,  she  con- 
tinued the  arrangement  of  her  flowers,  and — perhaps  her 
hand  trembled,  for  it  was  trying  business,  this  cutting  of 
a  man  who  had  been  kind  to  her — she  let  a  large  number 
of  them  slip  from  her  fingers. 

She  stopped,  and,  biting  her  lip  softly,  began  to  pick 
them  up,  and  Gaunt  stepped  forward  and  assisted 
her. 

As  he  handed  the  yellow  blossoms  to  her,  he  said,  very 
quietly : 

"  Have  you  forgotten  me  ?  " 

The  blood  rushed  to  Decima's  face. 

';  Xo,"  she  said. 

u  Xot  forgotten  me  ?  And  yet  you  would  not  bow  to 
me  ?  Why  was  that  ?  " 

Decima  looked  from  side  to  side. 

"  I — I  cannot  tell  you,"  she  said. 

"  But — forgive  me  ! — don't  you  think  you  owe  me  some 
explanation?  Let  me  put  the  case  the  other  way.  If 
you  had  deigned  to  bow  to  me,  and  I  had  declined  to 
respond,  if  I  had  cut  you,  would  you  not  think  an  explana- 
tion due  from  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Decima,  her  brows  coming  straight,  her 
lovely  eyes  growing  dark -blue. 

"  Be  just,  then.  Do  unto  others  as  you  would  that 
they  should  do  unto  you !  "  he  said.  There  was  a  suspi- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  33 

cion  of  banter  in  his  tone,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  grim 
kind  of  appeal  which  touched  Decima. 

"  Must  I  tell  you  ?  "  she  said,  in  a  troubled  voice. 

"  Yes ;  I  think  you  ought." 

"  Then — oh,  I  wish  you  would  not  ask  me  !  My  aunt 
does  not  wish  me  to — know  you !  " 

"Why?  "he  asked,  very  quietly.  "  I  admit  that  is  a 
sufficient  reason  for  the  cut ;  but  I  am  curious  to  know 
her  reason." 

"  -Because — because  you  are — oh,  I  cannot  tell  you  !  " 
she  broke  off,  scarlet  to  the  very  neck. 

"  Too  bad  for  you  to  know  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  smile. 

Decima  hung  her  head. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  "  I  am  answered.     Good-by." 

She  turned  and  went  a  few  steps  from  him,  then  she 
swung  round  and  came  back,  her  innocent  soul  shining 
through  her  eyes. 

"Why  are  you  so  wicked?"  she  said,  painfully,  as  if 
the  question  were  forced  from  her.  "  You  were  so  kind 
to  me." 

His  face  grew  hard  and  set,  then  he  smiled  grimly. 

"  That  would  take  a  lot  of  answering,"  he  said.  "  Wait 
a  moment  until  I  decide  whether  I  can  tell  you." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  WAIT  until  I  decide  whether  I  can  tell  you,"  said 
Gaunt. 

And  Decima  waited,  her  innocent  gray  eyes  on  his  face, 
with  a  kind  of  troubled  patience.  He  looked  beyond  her 
fixedly  with  a  grave  thoughtfulness,  and  was  silent  so 
long  that  Decima  almost  thought  that  he  had  forgotten 
her ;  then  he  looked  at  her  with  a  grim  smile. 

"  I  have  decided  that  I  cannot  tell  you,  Miss — "  he  hesi- 
tated. 

"  Deane  !  "  said  Decima.  "  Decima  Deane.  You  have 
forgotten  my  name." 

"  I  had,"  he  said.  "  It  was  unpardonable  ;  but  you  see, 
when  a  man  has  need  of  so  much  forgiveness,  a  small 
shortcoming  or  two,  more  or  less,  scarcely  counts.  "  No ; 
I  can't  answer  your  question,  Miss  Deane;  but,  all  the 


34  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

same,  I  should  like  to  make  a  short  statement  in  my  own 
defense." 

He  then  spoke  of  the  way  of  the  world  in  condemning 
trivial  faults  as  great  sins ;  that  it  condemned,  for  instance, 
social  card  playing  as  gambling;  friendly  intercourse 
between  people  of  opposite  sexes  as  criminal  intimacy ; 
and  he  closed  with  the  charitable  statement  that  perhaps 
Lady  Pauline  had  formed  her  harsh  judgment  of  him  on 
insufficient  evidence. 

His  apparent  candor  won  her  esteem,  and  she  began  to 
harbor  the  belief  that  her  aunt  had  really  misjudged  this 
sad-faced  man— that  he  was  not  as  black  as  he  had  been 
painted. 

Soon  the  conversation  drifted  to  the  neglected  condi- 
tion of  Leafmore  and  its  eccentric  master.  Decima  bluntly 
and  emphatically  censured  the  "  heartless  owner"  of  such 
fine  property  for  his  indifference  as  to  its  welfare,  serenely 
unconscious  that  the  man  she  censured  was  walking 
beside  her. 

They  had  been  strolling  toward  the  river,  and  as  they 
approached  the  bank  Gaunt  saw  that  Bobby  was  eagerly 
trying  to  catch  a  playful  but  extremely  cautious  trout. 
After  he  had  made  three  or  four  unsuccessful  attempts 
Gaunt  begged  permission  to  try  his  skill. 

To  the  amazement  of  Bobby,  his  first  throw  showed 
him  to  be  a  skilful  angler.  In  about  two  minutes  the 
fish  was  hooked.. 

"  Oh,  what  a  splendid  fellow !  "  Decima  exclaimed,  as 
Gaunt  brought  him  to  the  bank  and  Bobby  slipped  the 
net  under  him. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Gaunt,  handing   the  rod  back 
Bobby. 

Bobby  laughed. 

"  You  throw  a  beautiful  fly,  sir,"  he  said, 
staying  here  ?     If  so,  I'll  ask  Bright — the   steward- 
give  you  permission  to — Hallo,  here  he  is !  "  he  broke  off, 
as  a  short,  thick-set  man,  with  a  pleasant,  good-humored 
face,  came  round  the  hill. 

"Hi,  Bright!  how  are  you?     Just  look  at  this 
This  is    my  sister.     Decima,  this  is  Mr.  Bright,     This 
gentleman  'caught  him— Why,  what's  the  matter  ?  " 
broke  off,  for  Mr.  Bright's  face,  as  he  turned  to  " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  35 

stranger,"  had  grown  red  with  surprise  and  delight,  and, 
raising  his  hat,  he  came  forward  with  an  eager  exclama- 
tion of : 

"  Lord  Gaunt !  " 

For  an  instant,  but  an  instant  only,  Gaunt  looked 
annoyed  and  embarrassed  as  he  shook  hands  with  the 
steward. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Bright  ?  "  he  said.  "  Taken  you  by 
surprise,  you  see." 

Bobby  stared,  then  emitted  a  low  whistle  and  grinned. 
But  Decinia's  face  wore  no  smile.  It  became  red  for  a  mo- 
ment, then  very  pale,  and  her  eyes  sought  Gaunt X  then 
hid  themselves  under  their  long  lashes. 

This  man  to  whom  she  had  been  abusing  Lord  Gaunt 
was  Lord  Gaunt  himself.  Humiliation,  shame  and  con- 
fusion fell  upon  her  and  seized  her  in  their  clutches  while 
one  could  count  twenty.  Then  something  like  resentment 
and  anger  took  their  place  ;  and  she  drew  back  and  turned 
her  face  away.  But  she  could  hear  Lord  Gaunt  talking 
steadily  and  slowly,  as  if  to  afford  time  for  the  embarrass- 
ment to  pass. 

"  Yes,  I  should  have  written  to  say  I  was  coming. 
Bright ;  but,  I — well — I  didn't  make  up  my  mind  until 
the  last  moment." 

"  Delighted  to  see  you,  my  lord  !  "  said  Mr.  Bright ; 
"  notice  or  no  notice.  Of  course  I  should  have  preferred  a 
short  warning.  The  house — Well,  I'm  afraid  the  house 
is  scarcely  fit  to  receive  you 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Gaunt.  "  I  shall  not  stay  long 
— half  an  hour ' 

Mr.  Bright  looked  at  Bobby  and  Decima. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Deane,  of  the  Woodbines — a  neighbor 
of  yours,  my  lord,"  he  said. 

Lord  Gaunt  held  out  his  hand  to  Bobby,  upon  whose 
face  the  grin  still  flickered. 

"  Very  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mr.  Deane,"  he 
said. 

"  Thanks  !  "  said  Bobby.  "  And  I'm  glad  to  be  able  to 
thank  you  for  the  permission  to  fish.  This  is  my  sister, 
Decima." 

Lord  Gaunt  went  up  to  Decima,  who  stood  perfectly 
still,  and  without  making  any  response  to  the  introduction. 


86  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  I  cannot  hope  for  forgiveness  this  time  I "  he  said,  in 
a  low  voice  unheard  by  Bobby  and  Bright,  who  were  a  little 
apart,  discussing  the  strangeness  of  Lord  (Taunt's  sudden 
and  unannounced  visit.  "  But  you  will  admit  that  the 
temptation  to  conceal  myself  was  very  strong.  If  Mr. 
Bright  had  not  turned  up"!  should  have  got  away  without 
your  learning  that  I  was  the  'heartless'  owner  of  Leaf- 
more." 

Here  Bright  strode  up,  fortunately  interrupting  further 
conversation  on  a  theme  that  was  very  distressing  to 
Decima.  He  requested  Lord  Gaunt  to  come  up  to  the 
Hall,  as  he  had  much  to  say  to  him. 

Gaunt  entreated  Decima  and  her  brother  to  accompany 
them,  and  the  invitation  was  eagerly  accepted  by  Bobby, 
who  wished  his  sister  to  avail  herself  of  the  chance  to 
inspect  the  art  treasures  of  the  Hall,  which  he  himself 
had  seen  several  times,  thanks  to  the  friendliness  of  Mr. 
Bright. 

As  the  four  moved  from  room  to  room,  the  two  visitors 
inspecting  various  objects  of  interest,  Lord  Gaunt  informed 
the  delighted  steward  that  in  four  days  he  intended  to 
return  to  Leafmore  and  there  take  up  his  abode. 

This  sudden  change  of  plan  caused  Decima  to  engage 
in  deep  reflection.     She  wondered  why  Lord  Gaunt  h  id 
so  unexpectedly  determined,  after  such  a  long  aba 
make  his  home  once  more  amid  the  scenes  of  his  youth. 
She  was  still  further  amazed  when  he  declared  that  it 
would  please  him  to  have  Miss  Deane  join  him,  from  time 
to  time,  with  her  advice  in  regard  to  several  improvements 
he  intended  to  make,     He  urged  this  upon  her  so  earn, 
that  she  gave  a  rather  reluctant  assent  to  do  what  she 
could  to  assist  him  in  the  way  he  had  suggested. 

When  she  reached  Woodbines,  after  her  visit  to 
Leafmore,  she  was  far  in  advance  of  Bobby,  who  had 
lingered  behind  to  properly  pack  his  fishing  equipments 
As  she  pushed  open  the  door  of  the  laboratory,  she  was 
surprised  to  hear  her  father's  voice.  He  was  talking 
rapidly,  and  in  excited  tones. 

She  shaded  her  eyes— for  the  sunlight  poured  in  after 
her  and  dazzled  her— and  the  first  thing  she  saw  was  Mr. 
Theodore  Mershon. 

He   was   seated   on  the  carpenter's  bench,  his   small, 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  37 

dapper  form  bent  rather  grotesquely,  his  feet  resting  on  a 
stool,  one  hand  nursing  his  chin,  the  other  holding  a  big 
cigar,  the  fumes  of  which  filled  the  room. 

Her  father  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,  a  model 
in  his  hand,  his  hair  ruffled  over  his  head ;  and  he  was 
talking  in  excited,  rhapsodical  fashion. 

"  There  is  a  large,  an  enormous  fortune  in  this  idea,  for 
it  is  a  great,  and,  above  all,  an  original  idea.  My  dear 
sir,  I  assure  you — and  I  know  what  I  am  saying — that 
there  is  wealth  beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice  in  this 
invention  of  mine  !  Who  is  this  ?  " 

"  Father  !  "  said  Decima,  as  he  stared  at  her  vacantly. 
"It  is  I,  Decima." 

Mr.  Mershon  got  off  the  bench,  and  removed  his  hat, 
which  he  had  worn  tilted  at  the  back  of  his  head. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Deane  ?  "  he  'said,  and  a  faint 
flush  stained  his  face.  "I  have  taken  the  pleasure  of 
calling  on  Mr. 'Deane,  and  he  has  been  explaining — 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  broke  in  Mr.  Deane.  "  Very  kind  of  Mr. 
— Mr." — he  hesitated  for  a  moment — "  Mr.  Curzon ' 

"  Mershon  !  "  suggested  the  owner  of  the  name. 

"  Pardon !  Mershon.  A  gentleman  of  great  intelli- 
gence, my  dear  Decima.  I  have  been  telling  him  of  my 
new  invention— concentrated  electricity." 

"  A  great  invention,  Miss  Deane,"  said  Mershon.  "  I 
think  very  highly  of  it.  In  my  humble  opinion  there's 
money  in  it — a  lot  of  money." 

Mr.  Deane  wagged  his  head  with  proud  satisfaction. 

"  A  gentleman  of  great  experience  and  intelligence,  my 
dear  Decima !  " 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Decima,  looking  from  one  to  the 
other  with  slightly  drawn  brows. 

Mr.  Theodore  Mershon's  eyes  dwelt  on  her  face. 

•"  Of  course  I  haven't  heard  the  whole  of  it,"  he  said. 
"  But  your  father  is  going  to  explain  and  bring  the  draw- 
ings when  you  come  to  dine  with  me  on  Tuesday,  Miss 
Deane." 

The  troubled  look  grew  more  distinct  on  Decima's  face. 
"  Are  we — are  we  going,  father  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes  !  yes  !  Why  not  ?  "  said  Mr.  Deane,  testily. 
"  Mr.  Curzon  is  much  interested  in  the  idea — are  you  not, 
Mr.  Curzon  ?  " 


88  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Very  much,"  said  that  gentleman  ;  and  his  small  eyes 
devoured  the  girl's  face.  "  Awfully  !  I'll  cut  off  now, 
sir.  I  shall  expect  you  on  Tuesday,  Miss  Deane." 

He  held  out  his  hand  and  it  closed  over  Decima's  with 
a  pressure  which  made  something  within  her  rise  with 
resentment. 

She  said  nothing,  not  even  "  good-by,"  but,  after  he  had 
gone,  stood  with  downcast  eyes  as  her  father,  pushing  Ids 
hand  through  his  tangled  hair,  and,  pacing  to  and  fro, 
muttered : 

"  A  very  sensible,  intelligent  young  man  !  He  under- 
stood me.  And  he  is  rich.  He  can  help  me — can  help 
all  of  us  !  With  his  money  and  my  brains — Eli  ?  What 
did  you  say,  Decima?  Dinner?  Already  !  "  And,  with 
a  reluctant  sigh,  he  suffered  Decima  to  lead  him  out  of 
the  room. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

1)i:< 'IMA  slept  soundly  that  night — why  should  she  not? 
For,  as  yet,  love  had  not  come  to  trouble  her  ! — but  she 
dreamed,  and  in  her  dreams  Lord  Gaunt  and  Theodore 
Mershon  were  inextricably  mixed ;  their  voices,  the  one 
deep  and  musical,  the  other  sharp  and  metallic,  clnshed 
together,  and  once  she  started  uneasily,  as  if  she  felt  Mr. 
Mershon's  thin,  claw-like  fingers  imprisoning  hers. 

As  the  days  passed  the  improvements  at  Leafmore  went 
on,  and  frequently  Mr.  Bright  consulted  Decima  as  to  the 
interior  furnishings  of  the  Hall.  "  The  master  had  busi- 
ness which  called  him  to  the  metropolis,  and  for  over  a 
week  he  was  absent;  consequently  he  and  Miss  Deane 
did  not  meet  during  that  time.  She  was  therefore  the 
less  reluctant  to  aid  Mr.  Bright  by  her  suggestions. 

On  Tuesday,  according  to  agreement,  the  Deanes,  father, 
son  and  daughter — took  dinner  at  the  Firs.  The  house- 
keeper was  introduced  by  Mr.  Mershon  as  his  half-sister, 
Mrs.  Sherborne.  She  was  past  middle  age,  with  a  thin 
figure  and  a  pale,  sad  face;  her  ruling  expression  strongly 
.suggestive  of  nervousness  and  timidity. 

Daring  the  meal  Mr.  Mershon  grew  eloquent  in  descant- 
ing on  his  business  ventures — how  he  had  originated  the 
Great  Wheat  Mining  Company,  and  cleared  a  quarter  of 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  39 

a  million  before  it  went  to  smash.  He  also  mentioned 
various  other  financial  achievements  of  a  similar  char- 
acter; and  it  was  plain  that  if  his  statements  were  true, 
he  was  a  remarkably  clever  man. 

He  extolled  Mr.  Deane's  invention,  saying  there  were 
untold  millions  in  it  if  properly  handled,  and  he  suggested 
a  scheme  by  which  it  could  be  put  upon  the  market. 
This  pleased  the  visionary  inventor,  and  as  he  said  good- 
by  to  his  host,  he  thought  that  Mr.  Mershon  was  an  un- 
commonly bright  gentleman. 

When  the  guests  had  departed,  Mr.  Mershon  announced 
to  Mrs.  Sherborne  that  it  was  his  intention  to  make  Miss 
Deane  his  wife,  and  that  he  required  her  to  take  every 
opportunity  to  win  the  good  opinion  of  the  inventor's 
daughter,  and  sing  his  praises  to  her. 

"  But  she  is  so — so  very  young,  Theodore,"  replied  Mrs. 
Sherborne,  deprecatingly. 

"  Young  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Mershon,  his  eyes  flashing 
angrily.  "  I  like  her  all  the  better  for  that.  D—  — n  it, 
you  don't  suppose  I  would  be  such  an  ass  as  to  fall  in  love 
with  an  old  woman !  And  I've  fallen  in  love  with  her,  I 
tell  you  !  " 

"  She — she  may  not  consent,  I — I  mean,  she  seems  to 
have  some  will  of  her  own,  Theodore ;  I  have  been  talk- 
ing to  her " 

"  Consent !  Will  of  her  own  ! "  he  said,  with  a  sneer. 
"  You  are  an  idiot !  Do  you  suppose  I'm  depending  upon 
her  sweet  will  only  ?  Not  I !  I  know  a  better  game  than 
that.  She'll  consent  fast  enough.  You  Avait  and  see! 
I've  got  her  tight  enough  ;  or,  if  I  haven't  got  her  already 
I  shall  have  her  in  my  grip  presently." 

From  that  day  his  attentions  to  Decima  were  marked 
and  they  were  frequently  together.  Tie  used  all  his  arts 
to  win  her  esteem,  and  with  delight  he  saw  that  she  was 
pleased  with  his  gallantries,  which  never  surpassed  the 
bounds  of  propriety.  ^On  the  return  of  Lord  Gaunt  to 
Leaf  more  he  was-  among  the  first  to  witness  these  atten- 
tions, and  he  contemplated  them  with  eyes  of  jealousy. 
In  Theodore  Mershon  the  nobleman  saw  a  possibly  suc- 
cessful rival,  and  he,  too,  lavished  much  attention  upon 
Decima.  They  rode  together,  drove  out  together,  and  the 
Deanes  were  often  welcome  guests  at  the  Hall.  Lord 


40  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Gaunt  was  delighted  to  note  that  Decima  was  a  graceful 
rider,  and  he  presented  to  her  a  half-thoroughbred  In 
named  Xero. 

On  Decima's  first  trial  of  this  spirited  steed  she  was 
eager  to  test  the  animal's  agility,  and  she  forced  him  at  a 
thick  hedge.  Xero  bounded  forward,  and  just  as  lie  was 
about  to  spring  he  made  a  false  step,  stumbled,  and  the 
fair  rider  was  in  imminent  peril  of  a  fall.  But  Lord  Gaunt 
was  close  beside  her,  and  dexterously  caught  her  in  his 
arms.  There  he  held  her  close  to  his  breast  for  about  two 
seconds,  and  then  released  her  and  aided  her  to  remount. 
In  those  two  seconds  a  dream  of  happiness  Hashed  through 
his  brain. 

On  the  ride  homeward  he  was  almost  silent,  but  deeply 
reflective.  Having  left  his  fair  companion  at  Woodbines, 
he  hastened  to  Leafmore,  went  direct  to  his  study  and 
lighted  a  cigar.  He  could  feel  the  lithe,  graceful  figure 
still  in  his  arms,  still  feel  her  breath  on  his  cheek. 

Suddenly  he  flung  the  cigar  in  the  fireplace  and  threw 
his  hands  above  his  head  with  a  wild,  despairing  gesture. 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  "  he  cried.  s"  Xot  that !  Xot  that !  " 
But  the  prayer  came  too  late,  and  he  knew  it.  "I  love 
her !  "  he  cried,  as  the  sweat  of  his  anguish  broke  upon 
his  brow.  "  I  love  her  !  I  love  her  !  " 

There  was  more  pain  than  pleasure  in  the  thought,  for 
there  was  keen  agony  in  the  realization  that  he,  a  married 
man,  was  in  love  with  Decima  Deane! 

"  My  God  !  "  he  exclaimed,  «  how  will  this  end  ?  " 

He  loved  her,  and  he  knew  that  this  was  the  first  real 
love  of  his  life.     The  fancy  for  the  woman  who  bore  his 
name  had  been  merely  a  fancy,  and  companionship,  d 
intimacy,  had  changed  that  fancy  to  loathing  and  contempt. 

Decima  alone  was  the  idol  of  his  heart.  In  her  presence 
he  saw  charms  that  no  other  woman  of  his  acquaintance 
had  ever  revealed,  and  he  was  comparatively  happy  when, 
enjoying  her  society. 

With  some  plans  in  his  hand  for  the  construction  of  a 
couple  of  cottages  he  was  about  to  erect,  he  called  at  the 
Woodbines,  intending  to  show  the  plans  to  her,  and  get 
her  opinion  as  to  the  interior  arrangements  of  the  dwell- 
ings. At  the  time  she  was  adjusting  some  bunches  of  ivy 
and  clematis  which  overhung  the  porch.  Her  tresses  be- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  41 

came  entangled  in  the  process,  and  he  assisted  her  to  re- 
lease the  silky  coil.  While  he  was  thus  engaged  a  little 
piece  of  brown  ribbon  which  had  been  used  to  confine  her 
hair,  dropped  to  the  ground,  unperceived  by  Decima. 

He  secured  it,  and,  holding  it  in  his  hand,  said  : 

"  If  you  don't  particularly  need  this,  I'll  tie  up  the  plans 
with  it." 

She  cheerfully  assented,  but  a  few  minutes  later  she 
observed  that  the  plans  were  still  without  a  confining 
circlet.  She  did  not  know  that  the  little  piece  of  brown 
ribbon  was  at  that  moment  neatly  placed  in  his  vest 
pocket,  close  to  his  heart. 

That  evening,  in  the  solitude  of  his  own  room,  having 
dismissed  Hobson,  his  valet,  he  stood  with  the  little  piece 
of  ribbon  in  his  hand,  contemplating  it  silently. 

'•  What  a  fool  I  am  !  "  he  exclaimed,  at  last.  "•  I  am 
living  in  a  fool's  paradise,  and  I  shall  awake  presently  to 
find  myself  in— in  the  other  place.  I'll  burn  this.  Yes, 
I'll  burn  it — and — and  try  to  forget  her." 

He  held  the  little  piece  of  ribbon  to  the  candle,  but  he 
drew  it  back  instantly,  with  something  like  a  groan  on 
his  lips. 

The  ribbon  slept  on  his  heart  that  night,  and  every 
night,  and  his  heart  said  to  it,  "  I  love  her  !  I  love  her !  " 
and  the  ribbon  murmured  back,  "  I  know  it." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LORD  GAUXT,  by  many  generous  acts,  won  the  friend- 
ship of  Bobby  Deane,  and  the  latter  thought  him  one  of 
the  grandest  fellows  in  the  world.  Bobby  was  about  to 
start  for  London,  by  the  advice  of  his  tutors,  to  brush  up 
in  his  French  and  German,  and  prepare  for  his  school  ex- 
amination. This  movement  did  not  meet  the  favor  of 
Lord  Gaunt,  who  saw  that  Bobby's  absence  would  limit 
his  opportunities  for  seeing  Decima,  to  whom  the  brother 
had  officiated  as  a  sort  of  chaperon. 

Still,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  the  boy  to  go,  to 
prepare  himself  for  entering  the  army,  and  Lord  Gaunt 
could  not  consistently  make  any  objection.  He  generously 
offered  to  Bobby  the  free  use  of  his  London  apartments, 


42  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

during  his  sojourn  in  the  metropolis,  stating  that  he  would 
be  doing  him  a  service  if  he  occupied  them.  He  also  prom- 
ised the  young  man  to  write  for  him  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction to  the  Orient  Club,  of  which  Lord  Gaunt  had  long 
been  a  member.  This  letter  would  undoubtedly  secure 
for  him  all  the  privileges  of  the  club,  and  Bobby  was  in 
the  seventh  heaven  of  delight  as  he  warmly  grasped  the 
nobleman's  hand  and  expressed  his  acceptance  and  deep 
gratitude. 

Decima,  who  was  present  on  this  occasion,  alsosmani- 
fested  her  appreciation  of  these  favors,  and  artlessly  said  : 

"  I  wonder  why  you  are  so  kind  to  us  all ? " 

It  was  evident  to  the  nobleman  that  he  could  not 
have  discovered  a  quicker  method  to  intrench  himself  in 
Decimals  heart. 

On  the  day  succeeding  the  events  just  recorded,  Bobby 
was  on  his  way  to  London.  Lord  (Jaunt's  letter  of  intro- 
duction had  preceded  him ;  and,  of  course,  the  young  man 
was  assured  of  a  welcome.  Decima  missed  the  badinage 
and  playful  habits  of  her  brother,  but  she  was  not  at  all 
lonely,  for  on  that  very  afternoon  Lord  Gaunt  was  her  at- 
tendant on  an  exploring  trip  through  the  woodland  of 
Leaf  more.  It  was  an  accidental  meeting,  he  having  seen 
her  strolling  along  with  a  little  flower  basket  on  her  arm, 
and  joined  her. 

"Oh,  what  beautiful  lilies  !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  she  no- 
ticed a  massive  bunch  of  these  aquatic  plants  floating  near 
the  edge  of  the  adjacent  stream. 

"  I'll  get  some  of  them  for  you,"  he  said,  as  he  knelt 
on  the  bank,  and,  slipping  back  the  sleeves  of  his  coat  and 
shirt  from  his  left  arm. 

Suddenly,  as  he  plunged  his  arm  into  the  water,  and 
drew  up  the  lilies  by  their  long  stems,  she  caught  sight 
of  some  black  marks  or  scars  on  the  bare  flesh. 

"  What  are  those  marks  on  your  arm  ?"  she  asked. 

lie  was  busy  cutting  the  steins,  and  was  off  his  guard 
for  a  moment. 

"Oli,    nothing,"  he    said,     pulling     down    his    s! 
"  Caustic  marks.     I  got  a    scratch  or    two  from    a  young 
lion.    There  are  the  lilies.    And  very  pretty  they  are.    Let 
me  put  them  in  your  basket." 

She  stood  stockstill,  the  blood  rushing  to  her  face  and 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  43 

then  away  from  it  again,  her  eyes  fixed  on  his  face  with 
a  strange  look  in  them.  She  remembered  the  Zoo  and 
the  young  lion,  the  swift  outstretching  of  his  arm  to  save 
her,  the  sound  of  the  rent  cloth.  The  lion  had  torn  his 
arm  then ! 

For  a  moment  something  beat  in  her  heart,  a  pulsation 
which  almost  deprived  her  of  breath.  She  longed  to 
take  the  arm,  and  press  her  lips  to  the  black  marks ;  for 
he  had  got  them  in  saving  her.  They  should  have  been 
on  her  arm  instead  of  his  !  Her  eyes  grew  hot,  and  filled 
with  tears,  and  the  first  thrill  of  love  ran  through  her 
veins,  though  she  did  not  know  it.  Troubled,  perplexed, 
fighting  against  this  feeling  with  all  a  girl's  instinctive 
dread  of  passion,  she  held  out  the  basket,  then  as  soon  as» 
he  had  placed  the  lilies  in  it,  she  turned  her  head  away. 

"  I  must  go,"  she  said.  "  It  is  late,  and — good-bv  !  " 
And  she  left  him  suddenly,  her  whole  being  quivering, 
lie  had  not  seen  her  face — he  had  been  engaged  with  the 
lilies — and  he  suspected  nothing  of  the  emotions  which 
had  swept  over  her  young  heart. 

*  *  *  #  *  *  * 

It  was  late  that  very  afternoon  when  Bobby  walked  into 
the  Orient,  walked  in  with  that  sense  of  proud  possession 
which  the  young  man  feels  in  his  first  club.  He  made 
his  way  through  the  imposing  hall  with  its  solemn  por- 
ters and  stately  footmen  into  the  handsome  smoking-room, 
and  lighting  a  cigarette,  took  up  a  paper — not  to  read,  but 
as  a  screen  from  which  he  could  look  at  the  other  mem- 
bers Avho  were  present ;  for  Bobby  was  a  stranger,  and 
every  one  who  belonged  to  the  Orient  was  of  interest  to 
him.  He  knew  some  by  sight,  or  from  their  photographs 
displayed  in  the  shop  windows — for  there  were  some  fa- 
mous men  in  the  club — and  he  was  wondering  whether 
he  should  get  to  know  any  of  them  personally,  when  two 
men  entered  through  the  great  glass  doors. 

Bobby  looked  at  them  curiously.  One  was  a  tall,  fair, 
very  fair  man,  with  a  clean-shaven  face,  handsome,  frank- 
looking  blue  eyes,  and  lips  wearing  a  peculiarly  pleasant 
and  winning  smile.  The  other  was  a  younger  man — of 
Bobby's  age — with  red  hair  and  a  pale  face.  He  was  plain ; 
but  there  was  something  of  suppressed  force  in  the  rather 
sullen-looking  face  which  was  noticeable.  His  eyes  were 


41  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

somewhat  bloodshot,  and  as  he  looked  from  side  to  side, 
they  had  a  suggestion  of  ferocity,  of  savageness,  held  in. 
cheek  by  their  owner — which  made  them  still  more  re- 
markable. 

Bobby  took  a  second  glance  at  him;  then,  with  an  ex- 
clamation, rose  to  his  feet.  For  he  had  suddenly  recog- 
nized the  young  man  as  a  schoolmate. 

"  Hallo,  Trevor  !  "  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand. 

The  young  fellow  eyed  him  with  a  frown  for  a  moment., 
then  he  said,  without  any  great  display  of  joy  : 

"  Hallo,  Deane  !     Didn't  know  you  were  in  town." 

"No,"  said  Bobby,  in  his  bright  way.  "It  is  a  1< .-.\\y; 
time  since  we  met." 

•    "Xot  since  we  left  that  beastly  Rugby,"  said  Tiv 
gloomily.     "  Are  you  staying  up  for  any  time  ?  " 

"  For  a  month  or  two,"  said  Bobby.  » 

The  fair  man  stood  looking  at  them  with  a  pleasant. 
smile  in  his  blue  eyes,  and  on  his  well-cut  lips. 

"  A  meeting  of  old  friends,  Trevor  ? "  he  said,  in  a 
soft  and  musical  voice.  "  Will  you  introduce  me,  my 
dear  fellow?" 

Trevor  glowered  for  a  moment  at  the  thick  Turkey 
carpet  as  if  he  had  a  grudge  against  it,  then  he  said,  sul- 
lenly : 

"It's  an  old  schoolmate  of  mine — Mr.  Deane.  This  is 
a  friend,  Deane — Mr.  Thorpe,  Morgan  Thorpe." 

Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  held  out  his  hand  with  a  winning 
smile. 

"Delighted  to  know  any  friend  of  Trevor's!"  he  said 
"  And  very  glad  to  find  you  are  a  member  of  the  old  club, 
Mr.  Deane!" 

There  was  something  flattering  in  the  speech  and  its 
manner  which  made  Bobby  flush  with  pleasure. 

"  And  what  are  you  doing — just  on  a  pleasant  A'isit  to 
the  little  village  ?'"  asked  Mr.  Thorpe.  "Shall  we  sit 
down,  Trevor?  Mr.  Deane,  you  will  join  us  in  a  drink  ?  " 

Bobby  said  he  would  have  coffee,  and  it  was  brought  in 
company  with  the  soda  and  whiskey  for  the  other  men. 

"I'm  grinding  for  the  army/'  said  Bobby. 

"  Ah  !  I  envy  you,"  said  Mr.  Thorpe,  in  the  same  flat- 
tering way.  "  Nothing  like  the  service.  I  was  in  it  for 
some  years." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  45 

"  What  regiment  ?  "  asked  Bobby,  who  of  course  knew 
liis  Army  List  by  heart. 

"  Xot  an  English  one,  alas  !  "  said  Mr.  Thorpe,  blandly. 
"  I  was  in  foreign  service.  A  free  lance,  Mr.  Deane.  A 
free  lance !  I  have  my  brevet-colonelcy ;  but,  of  course, 
I  don't  use  it  here.  I  am  a  civilian  in  England  ;  but  over 
there " 

He  smiled  and  shrugged  his  shoulders,  Bobby  would 
have  asked  where  "  over  there  "  was,  but  didn't  like  to. 

"  Deane — Deane  ?  Let  me  see  !  Are  you  one  of  the 
Deanes  of  Leamington  ?  "  continued  Mr.  Thorpe. 

"  Xo,"  said  Bobby.  "I  live  at  a  place  called  Leaf- 
more  !  " 

"  Ah  !  I  know  the  Deanes  of  Leamington  very  well. 
Leafmore  ?  " — he  shot  a  s \viit  glance  from  his  blue  eyes  at 
Bobby — "  Leafmore,  in  Downshire  ? — I've  heard  of  it. 
Xow,  what  shall  we  do?  What  do  you  say  to  a  game  of 
pool  ?  " 

Bobby  had  to  confess  that  he  didn't  play  billiards. 

"Never  too  late  to  learn,  my  dear  fellow!"  said  Mr. 
Thorpe.  "  I'm  a  deuced  bad  player  myself,  or  I'd  offer  to 
teach  you ;  but  Trevor  is  a  first-class  performer  with  the 
stick  and  the  spheres.  Come  on,  Trevor,  and  give  us  both 
a  lesson." 

Trevor  got  up  with  a  kind  of  reluctance,  and  they  went 
into  the  billiard  room.  Trevor  and  Thorpe  played  and 
Bobby  took  his  first  lesson — in  marking.  Thorpe  played, 
as  he  had  said,  indifferently,  and  appeared  to  take  more 
interest  in  chatting  with  Bobby  than  in  the  game.  He 
talked  well ;  Bobby  thought  he  had  never  met  a  more 
charming  man,  or  one  more  frank  and  candid,  and,  really, 
almost  childlike  in  his  genial  simplicity.  In  the  course  of 
an  hour  Bobby  felt  as  if  he  had  known  Mr.  Morgan 
Thorpe  for  years.  Trevor  said  little,  but  played  with  a 
kind  of  moody  absorption,  and  made  some  splendid  breaks. 

Presently  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  glanced  at  his  watch. 

"  I  say  !  Time,  time !  Dear  me,  how  quickly  it  has 
flown.  That's  thanks  to  you,  Deane  !  "  He  had  dropped 
the  "  Mr."  already  ;  which  was  really  very  friendly  of  him. 
"  We  must  be  going,  Trevor  ;  we  dine  early,  you  know. 
Oh,  by  the  way,  Deane,  I  wonder  whether  I  could  per- 
suade you  to  waive  ceremony  and  come  and  dine  with  us 


46  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

to-night.     When  I  say  '  us '  I  mean  my  sister  and  i : 
— and  Trevor,  of  course.     We  shall  be  quite  en  famille, 
you  know,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  my  sister  will  be 
very  pleased  to  see  you.     A  friend  of  our  dear  Trevor's 
has  the  surest  passport — eh,  Trevor  ?  " 

Trevor  did  not  respond  with  a  smile  to  the  simile,  but 
glanced  at  Bobby,  and  then  sullenly  made  a  red  hazard. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Bobby.     "  I  shall  be  much  pleased.'' 

"  Now,  that's  very  good  of  you ! "  said  Mr.  Morgan 
Thorpe,  gratefully.  "  We  dine  at  seven-thirty.  Early,  isn't 
it  ':  But  you  won't  mind,  just  once  in  a  way  !  My  sister — 
well,  my  sister  is  rather  delicate,  and  goes  to  bed  early. 
Seven-thirty.  How  stupid  of  me  !  I  had  forgotten  the 
addivs-  :  " 

He  took  a  card  from  his  case,  and  gave  it  to  Bobby  with 
a  charming  smile.  The  card  bore  this  inscription  : 

Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe, 
31  Cardigan  Terrace,  S.  W. 

Bobby  put  the  card  in  his  pocket,  said  he  would  be  punc- 
tual, and  the  two  men  left  the  club. 

When  they  got  outside  Trevor  said  gloomily : 

"  Why  the  devil  did  you  ask  him  to  dinner  ?  It  wasn't 
necessary.  Don't  know  much  of  him — an  old  school- 
mate." 

Morgan  Thorpe  smiled. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  that's  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't 
know  more  of  him.  I've  taken  a  fancy  to  him  ;  have  in- 
deed! Besides,  he  will  be  a  pleasant  addition  to  our 
little  party." 

Mr.  Thorpe  hummed  a  bright  little  air,  and  Trevor 
muttered  something  under  his  breath.  They  walked  to 
Cardigan  Terrace,  and  Thorpe  stopped  outside  Xo  31. 

"  Xo  use  asking  you  to  come  in,  I  suppose  ?  "  he  said 
blandly. 

Trevor  looked  with  a  kind  of  savage  wistfulness  up  'at 
the  windows,  then  shaking  his  head. 

"  Xo  :  I  shall  be  here  at  seven- thirty." 

"  So  long,  then,  dear  boy,"  said  Thorpe,  and  he  went  up 
the  steps  and  rang  the  bell. 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  maid-servant,  a  middle-aged 


HER  HEARTS  DESIRE.  47 

woman,  with  the  unmistakable  face  and  manner  of  a 
Frenchwoman. 

"  Where  is  your  mistress  ?  "  he  asked,  in  her  language. 

"  In  the  dressing-room,"  replied  the  woman,  shooting  a 
glance  at  the  departing  Trevor. 

Morgan  Thorpe  went  up  the  narrow  stairs  ;  the  houses 
in  Cardigan  Terrace  are  small — not  to  say  poky — and 
knocked  at  the  door.  A  low,  clear  voice,  with  a  singular 
metallic  ring  in  it,  said  :  "  Come  in,"  and  he  entered. 

The  room  was  richly  hut  garishly  furnished  :  the  ail- 
was  thick  with  perfume— there  was  an  odor  of  cheap  scent 
all  over  the  house,  by  the  way — and  the  hangings  of  rose 
pink  were  soiled  and  stained.  At  a  muslin-covered 
dressing-table  sat  a  lady.  She  was  in  a  dressing  peignoir 
— also  rather  soiled — over  which  was  a  mass  of  black  hair, 
hung  like  a  torrent.  She  was  small  but  pretty,  more  than 
pretty,  for  no  one  had  ever  looked  at  her  face  without  be- 
ing more  or  less  fascinated.  The  features  were  small  and 
exquisitely  chiseled ;  her  eyes  were  black  as  sloes  and 
remarkably  expressive  ;  they  could  be  sharp  and  brilliant, 
and  they  could  be  soft  and  languorous,  just  as  their 
owner  chose.  Her  face  was  pale,  of  that  ivory  whiteness 
which  sometimes  goes  with  black  hair. 

She  was  beautifully  formed,  and  very  graceful,  with 
hands  and  feet  like  a  fairy.  In  short,  she  was  a  beauti- 
ful little  woman,  with  the  face  and  the  charm  of  a  siren, 
and  with  about  as  much  heart. 

She  turned  the  corners  of  her  dark  eyes  upon  her 
brother  for  a  second,  then  went  on  with  her  occupation, 
which  was  the  application  of  rice  powder  to  her  beautiful 
face,  and  she  did  it  with  the  delicate  touch  of  a  skilled 
artist. 

"•  AVell,"  she  said,  as  he  looked  down  at  her  with  a 
smile,  and  there  was  a  world  of  significance  in  the 
word. 

"  A  new  friend  is  coming  to  dinner,  my  dear  Laura," 
he  said. 

She  looked  at  him  in  the  glass. 

«  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  A  friend  of  Trevor's,"  he  said.  "  A  young  fellow  by 
the  name  of  Deane.  Quite  a  boy— a  charming  boy." 

She  made  a  slight,  contemptuous  move.    , 


48  HER  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

"  Ah,  do  not  despise  the  day  of  small  things,  my  charm- 
ing sister  !  "  he  said,  lightly. 

"  I  hate  boys !  "  she  said.  "  And  a  friend  of  Trevor's — 
sulky  and  sullen  and  awkward  as  himself,  I  supp<- 

"  On  the  contrary,  a  handsome,  nicely-mannered,  and, 
as  I  have  said,  quite  charming  boy." 

"  He  will  be  a  change,  at  any  rate,"  she  said.  "•  I  am 
getting  wearied  of  that  bear — 

"Take  care  you  do  not  let  the  bear  see  it!"  he  said, 
warningly.  "  We  have  not  yet  got  all  the  bear's  skin,  iny 
dear  Laura !  " 

She  smiled. 

"  And  is  this  boy  coming  only  because  you  have  taken 
a  fancy  to  him '? "  she  asked,  as  she  drew  a  thin,  exquisi- 
tely thin,  line  under  her  eyes.  ^  What — who  is  he '."  " 

"  Cramming  for  the  army,"  he  said. 

She  smiled  contemptuously. 

"I  know  the  kind.  An  allowance  of  a  hundred  a  year, 
and  promised  his  dear,  good  mother  down  at  the  parson- 
age that  he  wouldn't  play.  Oh,  I  know  !  " 

"I  don't  know  what  his  allowance  maybe,"  he  said, 
"but  I  fancy  he  will  be  worth  a  little  attention,  my  dear 
Laura."  He  took  up  a  newspaper  which  lay— with  a  fan 
and  a  lady's  silver  cigarette  case — on  the  couch.  "  See 
here."  He  read  aloud  : 

"  THE  GREAT  ELECTRIC  STORAGE  COMPANY,  LIMITED, 
CAPITAL,  £100,000, 

Directors  : 

Lord  Borrow-more,  Esq.,  I mpecunie  Castle, 
Theodore  Mershon,  Esq.,  The  Firs,  Leaf  more. 
Peter  Deaue,  Esq.,  Woodbines,  Leaf  more." 

"See?  The  son  of  a  man  who  is  in  the  swim  with 
Theodore  Mershon  ought  to  be  worth  a  little  attention. 
You  are  looking  sweet  to-night,  my  dear  Laura.  What 
are  you  going  to  wear  ?  That  soft  yellow  dress  with  the 
— er — low  neck?  Right!  He's  a  nice  boy.  A  nice,  frank 
boy.  The  sort  of  boy  to  fall  in  love  with— 

He  pointed  to  the  glass  in  which  the  fascinating  face 
was  reflected  and  with  a  soft  laugh  left  the  room. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  49 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BOBBY  dressed  himself  with  more  than  his  usual  care 
that  evening,  and  brushed  his  short  but  wavy  hair  until 
it  shone  like  raw  silk.  It  was  his  first  invitation  to  din- 
ner since  he  had  been  in  London,  and  he  was  quite  in  a, 
small  state  of  excitement  about  it. 

Punctually  at  seven-thirty  he  presented  himself  at  31 
Cardigan  Terrace  and  was  shown  by  the  French  maid  into 
the, small  drawing-room.  It  was  the  usual  London  draw- 
ing-room ;  there  were  a  good  many  colors  in  it,  and  it 
looked  rather  gay  to  Bobby  after  the  rather  shabby  one 
at  home ;  but  the  cretonne  Avas  rather  dirty,  and  there 
was  an  odor  of  scent  and  cigarettes  which  rather  sur- 
prised him. 

The  door  opened  and  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  entered.  lie 
looked  very  handsome  in  evening  dress,  and  he  welcomed 
Bobby  most  cordially. 

"  Delighted  to  see  you,  my  dear  Deane,"  he  said,  witli 
his  winning  smile.  "  Trevor  is  not  here  yet ;  my  sister 
will  be  down  presently.  Did  I  tell  you  that  she  is  a 
widow  ?  Poor  girl !  She  lost  her  husband  soon  after  her 
marriage.  It  was  not  altogether  a  happy  union — but  I 
must  not  bore  you  with  our  family  history  ;  suffice  it  that 
Time  has  healed  her  wound  and  restored  something  of  her 
old  happiness.  I  think  you  will  like  her,  my  dear  Deane. 
She  is  a  dear  girl — for  she  is  only  a  girl  still — and  a  great 
comfort  and  joy  to  my  life." 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened  and  the  great  comfort 
and  joy  of  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe's  life  entered.  She  cer- 
tainly did  look  only  a  girl,  and  Bobby  was  startled,  not 
only  by  her  youth,  but  by  her  beauty.  There  was  some- 
thing about  her  which  literally  took  the  boy's  breath 
away. 

At  that  moment  her  face  wore  a  pensive  expression,  and 
the  dark  eyes  were  soft  and  sad,  the  red  lips  half  apart. 
The  beautiful  dress  of  yellow,  accentuated  the  clear  white- 
ness of  her  skin  and  the  black  hair  and  brows.  She  held 
a  black  fan  in  one  hand  and  a  bunch  of  white  flowers  in 
the  other.  Altogether,  she  was  a  vision  of  grace  and 


50  HER  IIKAKrs  DESIRE. 

loveliness  calculated  to  move  a  more  experienced  man  than 
Bobby  to  wonder  and  admiration. 

"This  is  our  friend — Mr.  Deane,"  said  Morgan  Thorpe. 
"  My  sister— Mrs.  Dalton." 

She  laid  down  the  fan  and  gave  her  small  hand  to 
Bobby,  with  a  smile  which  showed  her  white,  even  teeth 
to  perfection,  and  said  she  was  glad  to  see  him.  Com- 
monplace words  enough,  but  they  sounded  wonderful  to 
Bobby,  for  the  gods,  when  the)'  are  in  good  humor,  are 
wont  to  be  lavish  of  their  gifts,  and  they  had  bestowed 
upon  this  woman  not  only  grace  of  form  and  a  beautiful 
face,  but  a  soft  and  musical  voice,  which  she  could  play 
on  as  a  skilled  musician  plays  on  his  favorite  instrument. 

"You  find  our  menage  very  small,  I  have  no  doubt,  my 
dear  Deane,"  said  Morgan  Thorpe.  "  We  have  taken  this 
house  furnished,  and  though  it  is  not  all  that  we  could 
desire,  it  is  large  enough  for  two,  and  my  sister  and  I 
possess  contented  minds,  though  I  must  confess  that  we 
do  find  the  house  rather  small  after  our  palazzo  in  Flor- 
ence. It  was  lent  to  us  by  our  dear  friend,  the  prince."1 

lie  did  not  say  which,  but  Bobby  was  duly  impressed. 

;-  Ours  has  been  rather  a  wandering  life,"  continued  Mr. 
Morgan  Thorpe,  "and  though  we  may  have  many  friends 
abroad  we  have  very  few  in  London." 

"  Mr.  Deane  will  be  a  host  in  himself,  I  am  sure,'  said 
Laura,  very  sweetly  and  with  a  slight  foreign  accent, 
which  made  her  voice  seem  still  more  charming  to  Hobby, 
who  blushed  with  pleasure. 

Then  Trevor  came  in.  He  did  not  look  very  much 
better  tempered  than  when  Bobby  had  parted  from  him. 
He  gave  the  two  men  a  nod  and  a  scowl,  and,  going 
straight  up  to  Laura,  handed  her  a  bouquet. 

"Got  them  coming  along,"  he  said;  "thought  you'd 
like  to  have  them." 

She  took  the  flowers  and  thanked  him  with  a  smile,  and 
he  sat  down  beside  her  and  talked  in  an  undertone.  The 
French  maid  announced  dinner. 

"Deane,  will  you  take  in  my  sister?"  said  Mr.  Morgan 
Thorpe. 

Trevor  had  already  offered  his  arm  and  he  let  it  fall  to 
his  side  and  scowled  at  Bobby  as  he  bore  Laura  off. 

It  was  a  delightful  evening  for  Bobby,  who  felt  that 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  51 

he  was  in  the  presence  of  an  amiable  hostess,  lovely,  art- 
less and  bewitching.  At  the  dinner,  at  which  wine  flowed 
freely,  she  was  most  attentive  to  her  new  guest,  and  in- 
sinuatingly encouraged  him  in  conversation,  which  re- 
vealed much  of  himself  and  his  family.  The  meal  over, 
Thorpe  suggested  a  game  of  cards,  but  as  Bobby  was 
rather  inexperienced  in  this  form  of  pastime,  the  siren 
entertained  him  with  vocal  and  piano  music  while  her 
brother  and  Trevor,  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  amused 
themselves  at  ecarte,  and  the  stakes  were  not  light. 
>  The  siren  had  an  exquisite  voice,  and  sang  Avith  almost 
artistic  effect.  Bobby  was  fascinated  as  he  listened. 
Occasionally  between  the  songs  she  would  wander  over 
to  the  card  players  and  take  her  station  behind  Trevor, 
leaning  on  the  back  of  his  chair.  On  these  occasions  she 
would  sometimes  strike  her  hair  with  her  left  hand,  and 
sometimes  with  her  right,  all  the  time  keeping  up  a  play- 
ful chatter,  but  never  once  looking  at  Thorpe.  These 
movements,  however,  were  not  lost  upon  her  brother, 
who  regulated  his  play  and  wagers  according  to  the  signs 
thus  quickly  displayed  by  the  siren.  It  was.  a  well-un- 
derstood system  of  telegraphy,  and  when  Trevor  arose 
from  the  table  he  was  the  loser  to  a  considerable  amount. 

At  a  late  hour  the  guests  prepared  for  departure. 
Trevor  went  up  to  Laura,  and,  drawing  her  aside,  talked 
to  her  in  a  low  voice.  She  listened  with  a  pensive  smile 
the  non-committal  smile  which  a  woman  knows  "how  to 
manage  so  well.  Then  she  glided  from  him  to  Bobby. 

"  I  hope  you  will  come  to  see  us  often,"  she  said  in  a 
low  voice. 

Bobby  tried  to  murmur  his  thanks. 

The  French  maid  appeared  with  a  spirit  stand.  Bobby 
had  some  whiskey,  though  he  didn't  want  it.  His  brain 
was  in  a  whirl ;  his  bright  eyes  were  flashing ;  his  heart 
was  beating  fast.  Laura  was  standing  beside  him  smiling 
up  at  him  with  a  friendly — almost  loving — smile. 

"  I  wonder  whether  you  would  come  and  dine  with 
me '? "  he  said,  looking  round  with  boyish  eagerness,  his 
eyes  resting,  however,  on  the  beautiful  face  beside  him. 
"  I've  got  rooms  at  Prince's  Mansions.  They  are  not 
mine  really  ;  they  belong  to  a  friend  of  mine — an  awfully 
good  fellow — Lord  Gaunt " 


52  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe,  who  alone  heard  this,  was  mixing 
himself  a  glass  of  whiskey.  He  was  just  pouring  in  a 
small  quantity  of  water,  and  with  an  awkwardness 
.scarcely  to  be  expected  of  so  cool  a  hand,  he  let  the 
caraffe  slip  from  his  grasp.  The  water  poured  over  the 
table,  and  in  the  confusion  Bobby's  speech  was  almost 
unnoticed. 

"  How  clumsy  of  me !  "  exclaimed  Morgan  Thorpe. 
"  Forgive  me,  my  dear  Laura !  AVe  shall  be  delighted, 
my  dear  Deane — delighted!  Must  you  really  be  going  ? 
Ah,  well !  the  happiest  hours  come  to  a  finish." 

Laura  went  out  into  the  small  hall  as  the  two  men  put 
on  their  light  overcoats.  Bobby  found  some  difficulty 
with  his,  and  she  helped  him  with  her  small  white  hands. 

"  You  will  come  again  ?  "  she  said. 

"Yes — yes,  indeed,"  said  Bobby.  "If  you  will  be  so 
good  as  to  ask  me." 

He  got  outside  and  the  cool  evening  air  struck  upon 
his  heated  brow.  He  felt  as  if  he  had  come  from  an  en- 
Chanted  palace,  in  which  a  beautiful  creature,  Avith  soft, 
black  eyes,  had  reigned  like  a  queen  of  the  fairies. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  SKVKUK  headache  was  a  painful  reminder  to  Bobby 
the  next  morning  of  the  previous  evening's  dissipation. 
For,  under  the  witching  eyes  of  the  fair  hostess  he  had 
indulged  in  stimulants  almost  recklessly.  Late  that 
noon  he  received  a  visit  from  Morgan  Thorpe,  who  viewed 
Lord  Gaunt's  apartments  with  affected  delight  and  curi- 
osity, as  if  it  were  the  lirst  time  he  had  ever  seen  them. 
He  advised  Bobby  to  conceal  from  Mrs.  Dalton  tl: 
that  the  rooms  were  not  his  own,  for  she  might  hesitate 
to  visit  an  acquaintance  in  apartments  belonging  to 
another  party.  They  then  sauntered  to  the  Orient  Club 
together,  and  for  days  afterward  they  frequently  met 
there.  Bobby  was  surely  becoming  quite  intimate  with 
Morgan  Thorpe,  and  was  "  seeing  life  "  under  an  expe- 
rienced tutor. 

Then  followed  another  dinner  at  Cardigan  Terrace,  in 
which   the   entertainment  of  the  previous  visit  was  re- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  53 

peated,  with  a  slight  variation — that  Bobby  was  induced 
to  take  part  in  the  card-playing  with  Trevor  and  Thorpe. 
Strange  to  say,  he  quit  the  game  a  winner  to  a  small  ex- 
tent. 

To  make  some  slight  return  for  the  hospitality  of  his 
new  friends,  he  invited  them  to  his  apartments  a  few 
days  later,  and  they  sat  down  to  a  meal  that  would  not 
have  discredited  a  man  of  boundless  wealth.  Mrs.  Pal- 
ton  lavished  her  smiles  upon  the  young  host  in  such  an 
effective  way  that  Trevor  observed  the  siren  with  eyes  in 
which  fires  of  jealousy  blazed. 

Cards  were  proposed,  but  as  Bobby  said  he  was  with- 
out them  the  idea  was  about  to  be  abandoned  when 
Thorpe  suddenly  remembered  that  he  had  a  couple  of 
packs  in  his  pocket.  These  having  been  produced,  the 
three  men  sat  down,  and  were  soon  engaged  in  a  game 
which  lasted  for  hours. 

The  same  system  of  telegraphy  noted  heretofore  was 
practised  for  the  benefit  of  Morgan,  Mrs.  Dalton  stand- 
ing behind  Bobby's  chair,  exchanging  playful  banter  with 
the  three  players.  The  result  was  that  at  the  close  of 
the  game  the  artless  novice  was  a  debtor  to  both  of  his 
contestants.  He  owed  Trevor  fifty-six  pounds  and  Mor- 
gan Thorpe  a  hundred  and  twenty-four. 

As  this  announcement  was  made  by  Thorpe,  Bobby's 
face  fell,  and  he  began  to  utter  words  of  apology  to  ex- 
press his  inability  to  meet  his  losses. 

"I'm  sorry  !     I'm — I'm  afraid "  he  stammered. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  Morgan  Thorpe,  laughing  care- 
lessly, "  I  did  not  suppose  you  carried  so  much  money  in 
your  waistcoat  pocket !  No  one  does.  You  will  do  the 
usual  thing,  of  course  ?  Just  give  me  an  I  O  U.  or,  better 
still,  a  little  bill.  Strange,  but  I  have  one  about  me  ! " 

He  produced  a  sheet  of  blue  paper  partly  filled  up,  and 
laid  it  on  the  table. 

"  Sign  that,  my  dear  Deane.  It  is  only  a  matter  of  form. 
Between  friends,  you  know.  You  need  not  pay  until  it 
is  convenient  :  in  fact,  Trevor  and  I  don't  care  very 
much  whether  you  pay  or  not.  We  have  had  such  a  de- 
lightful evening.  Delightful !  By  Jove  !  I  have  never 
had  a  more  abso-lu-te-ly  perfect  dinner !  Eh,  Laura  ?  " 

Laura    thus    appealed   to,    murmured    something    in 


54  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Bobby'.s  oars,  and  Bobby,  taking  the  stylographic  pen 
which  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  offered  him,  signed  his  name 
across  the  blue  paper.  His  head  was  swimming,  his  whole 
being  thrilling  under  the  touch  of  her  hand,  the  music 
of  her  murmuring  voice.  He  would  have  done  anything 
— signed  anything. 

With  a  fond  and  vacuous  smile  he  wrapped  her  cloak 
around  her. 

"  Let  me  arrange  a  bouquet  for  you/'  he  said,  in  a 
husky  whisper  as  he  went  to  the  dining-table,  and  there 
chose  .some  flowers  which  had  adorned  tl: 

She  pressed  the  bouquet  to  her  lips  and  looked  a 
it  at  him  witli  a  sad  smile. 

"  If  we  had  only  met  earlier ! "  she  murmured. 

Bobby  went  down  to  the  brougham  with  them,  and  as 
she  entered  she  pressed  his  hand  so  warmly  that  he  ven- 
tured to  raise  her  small,  white  hand  to  his  15; 

The  brougham  rattled  away,  and  the  divine  Laura 
leaned  back  with  a  yawn  and  a  sigh. 

Trevor  bent  forward,  his  bloodshot  eyes  gleaming  upon 
her. 

«  il..w  long  is  this  going  to  last?"  he  asked,  lioai- 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  glanced  at  her 
brother. 

"  Ask  him  !  "  she  said. 

Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  laughed. 

'•  My  dear  Trevor  !  "  he   said,  remonstratingly.     -  You 
surely  are  not  jealous  !     Of  a   boy  like  that!"  'and  'i 
vor,  with  a  smothered  oath  subsided. 

Meanwhile  Bobby  sat  at  the  table  with  the  ranis 
strewn  around  him,  and  thought  of  the  divine  Laura. 
He  could  feel  her  perfumed  breath  upon  his  cheek,  and 
could  hear  her  voice  still  ringing  in  1: 

He  did  not  remember  how  much  he  had  lost  :  did  not 
reflect  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  poor  man,  with  limited 
allowance.  He  only  thought  of  that  beautiful  face  and 
sweet  voice,  and— reader,  did  you  ever  hear  the  song  of 
«  The  Spider  and  the  Fly  ';  * 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  55 


CHAPTER  XI. 

FOR  weeks  thereafter  Mr.  Deane  was  amazed  by  the 
frequency  of  Bobby's  letters  requesting  remittances  ;  but 
he  responded  to  them  with  generosity,  yet  cautioning  his 
son  to  be  prudent.  This  matter  worried  the  old  gentle- 
man considerably,  yet  the  worriment  passed  away  in  the 
excitement  attending  the  preparations  for  a  grand  re- 
ception at  Leafmore  Hall,  to  which  he  and  his  daughter 
were  invited.  Bobby,  too,  received  an  invitation,  but  he 
had  to  forego  the  pleasure,  as  he  found  it  inconvenient 
to  leave  London. 

The  reception  was  a  great  success,  and  Deeima  won 
golden  opinions  from  every  one,  especially  from  the  Coun- 
tess of  Roborough,  an  estimable  middle-aged  lady,  an  old 
friend  of  the  Gaunts,  who  had  been  persuaded  to  officiate 
as  hostess.  During  an  interval  between  the  dances  a 
daughter  of  Lord  Ferndale  was  called  to  the  piano.  She 
was  a  lovely  girl  and  possessed  a  voice  of  rare  power  and 
sweetness.  She  sang  with  such  artistic  effect  that  all 
ears  were  entranced. 

"  What  a  beautiful  girl !  and  what  a  magnificent  voice  !  " 
involuntarily  exclaimed  Deeima  at  the  close  of  the  song. 

Near  the  speaker  sat  Lady  Ferndale,  although  Deeima 
was  unaware  of  that  fact.  She  was  fond  and  proud  of 
her  daughter,  and  the  girlish  burst  of  enthusiasm  touched 
her  deeply. 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Deane,"  she  said  smiling.  "  That 
was  a  spontaneous  tribute,  and  I  am  grateful.  I  am  the 
singer's  mother." 

Thus  another  stanch  friend  was  added  to  Decima's  list 
of  admirers. 

To  Deeima  there  was  only  one  unpleasant  feature  of 
the  entertainment.  That  was  the  persistence  of  Theo- 
dore Mershon  in  seeking  every  chance  to  monopolize  her 
company.  He  even  was  so  precipitate  as  to  ask  her  hand 
in  marriage,  and  preceded  the  offer  with  a  glowing  pic- 
ture of  his  abundant  wealth. 

The  proposal  was  so  sudden  and  so  blunt  that  she  was 
positively  startled,  and  turned  pale. 

"  Oh,  stop  !  stop  ! "  she  exclaimed.     "  You  pain  me  with. 


56  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

such  an  offer,  I  have  given  you  no  encouragement,  and  I 
hope  you  will  let  the  matter  end  here,  at  once  and  for- 
ever." 

Before  Mr.  Mershon  could  recover  from  his  amazement 
at  this  decided  rebuff,  Lord  Gaunt  fortunately  came  up 
to  claim  Decimals  hand  for  a  promised  waltz,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  Mershon's  eyes  glowed  with  rage  and 
hatred  as  he  saw  the  girl  he  admired  whirling-  in  the  dance, 
her  graceful  waist  encircled  by  the  arm  of  Lord  Gaunt. 

The  couple  had  not  made  the  circuit  of  the  room  more 
than  twice  when  Lord  Gaunt  found  that  his  partner's  feet 
failed  to  keep  step  to  the  rhythm  of  the  music,  and  she 
Avas  a  dead  weight  in  his  arms.  She  had  fainted. 

They  were  at  that  part  of  the  room  from  which  an  en- 
trance led  to  the  fernery.  Without  attracting  attention, 
he  passed  through  the  doorway,  holding  the  lovely,  in- 
animate girl  close  to  his  heart. 

They  were  alone,  and  he  gazed  down  at  the  marble- 
pale  faee  —all  his  soul  in  his  eyes.  His  love  overmastered 
him,  and  he  passionately  touched  his  lips  to  hers. 

"Decimal"  he  whispered.  "My  darling!  my  dar- 
ling !  " 

His  lips  were  hot  with  the  fervor  of  passion,  and  their 
fire  seemed  to  warm  her  back  to  life.  She  shuddered  and 
opened  her  eyes  and  recognized  him. 

"  I — am — so — glad  !  "  she  murmured,  unconsciously. 
The  thought  of  Mershon's  impetuous  wooing  had  caused 
her  to  faint,  and  she  recovered  from  her  swoon  with  the 
belief  that  she  was  in  that  man's  embrace.  The  loving 
glances  which  met  hers  at  once  convinced  her  of  the  un- 
reality of  her  horrid  dream;  therefore  it  was  with  un- 
usual warmth  that  she  once  more  exclaimed  "  I — am — so 
—glad !  " 

****** 

The  next  morning  while  at  breakfast  Decima  received 
ti  visit  from  Mr.  Bright,  who  conveyed  to  her  the  start- 
ling intelligence  that  Lord  Gaunt  had  suddenly  and  un- 
expectedly left  Leafmore  for  an  indefinite  time. 

"  I  am  afraid  he  is  in  trouble,"  continued  the  steward, 
"for  Ilobson  told  me  that  his  master  acted  quite  strangely 
last  night,  as  if  he  had  heard  bad  news.  Anyway,  he  has 
gone,  and  we  may  not  see  him  again  for  years." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  57 

A  weight  seemed  suddenly  to  have  fallen  upon  Deci- 
ma's  heart.  She  was  speechless  as  she  mechanically 
walked  to  the  window.  The  sun  was  shining  brightly, 
but  as  she  stared  wonderingly  out  at  the  little  garden  a 
cloud  passed  over  the  orb  of  day.  Was  it  typical  of  the 
darkness  which  had  come  to  obscure  the  brightness  of 
her  life  ? 

There  was  another  disagreeable  surprise  for  Decima 
that  day.  Mr.  Mershon  met  her  in  the  garden  some  hours 
later,  and  informed  her  that  the  Electric  Storage  Com- 
pany, the  stock  of  which  he  had  been  endeavoring  to^ 
float,  was  likely  to  prove  a  financial  failure,  and  that  her 
father,  who  had  risked  most  of  his  savings  on  it,  would 
in  such  an  event  be  a  heavy  loser. 

"  I  cautioned  your  father,"  said  Mr.  Mershon,  "  not  to  go 
into  it  too  heavily,  but  he  seems  so  certain  of  the  success 
of  the  thing  that  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he'd  sunk  a 
greater  portion  of  his  fortune  in  it." 

Decima  regarded  him  with  troubled  eyes. 

"And — and  you  think  he  will  lose  it?"  she  said,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  he  answered.  "  That's  the  worst 
of  these  inventions ;  there's  generally  a  screw  loose  some- 
Avhere." 

«  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  said  Decima  to  herself. 

Mershon  picked  a  leaf  off  a  rosebush,  examined  it 
critically  and  glanced  up  at  her  in  his  covert  way. 

"  I'm  afraid  your  father's  a  bit  worried  about  your 
brother,  Miss  Decima,  isn't  he  ?  "  he  said. 

Decima  stared  at  him. 

«  My  brother  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mershon,  picking  the  leaf  to  pieces  with 
his  long  nails.  "  Seems  to  have  been  going  the  pace. 
Been  writing  to  your  father  for  more  money  again ! " 

"  Bobby  !  "  exclaimed  Decima.  "  I — I  don't  under- 
stand !  " 

"  Oli,  it's  a  way  young  fellows  have  when  they  get  up 
to  London,"  said  Mershon.  "  I  dare  say  it  isn't  serious, 
-and  he'll  pull  through.  Good-morning." 

Decima  did  not  return  the  adieu,  and  he  came  back  and 
.glanced  at  her  again.  . 

"  So  Lord  Gaunt's  off ! "  he  said.     "  Thought  he'd  cut 


58  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

the  place  all  of  a  sudden,  like  this.  Gone  to  Africa,  I 
hear." 

The  red  flooded  Decimals  face  for  an  instant,  then  left 
it  pale  again. 

Mershon  stood  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground. 

"  You  haven't  forgotten  what  I  said  to  you  last  night, 
Miss  Decima  ?  "  he  said.  "Whatever  happens,  you  can 
rely  on  my  friendship.  Good-morning." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  and  Decima  just  touched  it  with 
her  fingers  ;  then  she  went  to  her  father  and  asked  for  an 
explanation. 

Mr.  Deane  launched  into  a  torrent  of  words  to  prove 
that  his  invention  was  impregnable  ;  but  it  is  needless  to 
say  that  they  carried  no  conviction  to  Decima's  mind. 

"And  what  is  this  about  Bobby,  father?"  she  asked 
anxiously. 

Mr.  Deane  paced  up  and  down  and  tore  at  his  hair. 

"I  don't  know!  I  don't  understand!"  he  said,  impa- 
tiently, "  Your  brother  Robert  keeps  writing  for  money, 
and  says  that  he  has  incurred  debts  which  must  be  dis- 
charged at  once.  I  have  sent  him  all  the  money  I  can. 
Yesterday  I  had  a  letter  from  my  bankers  saying  that  I 
have  overdrawn  my  account.  Mr.  Mershon  has  been  kind 
enough  to  lend  me  a  hundred  pounds " 

"  Mr.  Mershon  !  "  said  Decima,  faintly. 

"  Yes,  yes  ! "  responded  Mr.  Deane.  "  He  is  extremely 
kind.  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  without  him— 

Decima  stole  out  of  the  lal  (oratory,  feeling  faint  and  sick. 


CIIAI'TKK   XII. 

THAT  night  she  wrote  to  Bobby.  There  was  not  a  \vord 
of  reproach  in  the  loving  letter ;  she  only  begged  him  to 
come  home,  if  only  for  a  day.  Not  until  five  days  after- 
ward did  she  receive  a  hurried  .scrawl  from  Bobby,  saying 
it  was  impossible  for  him  to  leave  London  just  then,  but 
that  he  would  run  down  as  soon  as  he  possibly  could. 
The  letter  was  so  unlike  him — there  was  not  a  touch  of 
Bobby's  brightness  in  it — that  it  filled  Decima  with  dis- 
may and  foreboding. 

The  days  passed.     It  seemed  to  her  as  if  there  were 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  59 

forty-eight  hours  in  each  of  them  instead  of  twenty- four; 
she  felt  so  lonely  and  as  if  something  had  gone  out  of  her 
life.  She  grew  pale  and  listless. 

"When  she  went  for  a  walk  she  avoided  the  gates  of  the 
Leaf  more  Lodge,  and  if  she  were  compelled  to  pass  them 
she  would  not  glance  up  the  avenue. 

She  tried  to  forget  Lord  Gaunt,  not  as  one  who  has 
loved  and  lost,  for  she  did  not  know  that  she  loved  him, 
would  have  been  startled  if  the  idea  had  entered  her 
head  for  a  moment ;  but  she  felt  that,  yielding  to  Mr. 
Bright's  entreaties,  she  had  done  her  insignificant  best  to 
keep  Lord  Gaunt  among  his  people  and  had  failed. 

But  it  was  hard  to  forget  a  man  whose  name  she  was 
constantly  hearing.  The  village  people  were  always 
talking  of  him  and  deploring  his  absence.  The  county 
families  were  indignant  at  his  sudden  flight,  and  the  local 
papers  shed  an  inky  tear  over  it. 

Lady  Ferndale,  the  Countess  of  Roborough,  and  sev- 
eral of  their  friends  had  called  upon  Decima,  and  would 
have  welcomed  her  into  their  set,  but  Decima  felt  as  if, 
like  Lord  Gaunt,  she  hated  society.  She  shrank  into  her 
shell,  as  it  were,  and  the  great  ladies  after  awhile  gave  up 
the  attempt  to  woo  her  from  it. 

The  only  persons  she  saw  were  Mr.  Mershon  and  Mrs. 
Sherborne.  He  came  to  the  Woodbines  nearly  every  day, 
and  Mrs.  Sherborne  very  often  accompanied  him,  and  sat 
with  Decima  in  the  drawing-room,  while  her  brother 
talked  to  Mr.  Deane  in  the  laboratory. 

Mrs.  Sherborne  watched  Decima  with  a  covert  scrutiny 
which  made  her  feel  restless  and  nervous.  She  was  be- 
ginning to  feel  as  if  a  net  were  being  drawn  round  her. 

And  yet  she  could  not  complain  of  Mr.  Mershon.  He 
was  too  clever  to  harass  her  with  attentions,  and  his 
manner  toward  her  was  one  of  the  deepest  respect  and 
deference. 

Sometimes  Mrs.  Sherborne  brought  a  magnificent  bunch 
of  orchids  from  the  Firs,  and  only  sometimes  she  casu- 
ally mentioned  that  Theodore  had  cut  the  blooms  with 
his  own  hands. 

Now  and  again  Decima  met  Mr.  Bright.  Indeed,  he 
sought  her  as  of  old,  and  asked  her  advice  and  assistance 
in  carrying  out  the  benevolent  schemes  which  he  always 


60  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

declared  she  had  started,  and  Decima  tried  to  throw  her 
heart  into  the  work  which  she  had  begun  so  eagerly ;  but 
she  seemed  to  have  no  heart  to  throw.  Now  and  again 
she  asked  Mr.  Bright  if  he  had  heard  from  or  of  Lord 
Gaunt,  but 'he  always  replied  in  the  negative,  with  a  shake 
of  the  head  and  a  sigh. 

One  afternoon  she  came  back  from  the  village  feeling 
tired  and  listless.  She  took  oft'  her  things,  and  then  went 
down  to  a  little  room  at  the  back  of  the  house,  where  she 
kept  her  pets. 

It  had  grown  into  quite  a  small  menagerie,  for,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  guinea  pigs  and  white  mice  she  had  brought 
with  her,  there  were  other  pets  which  Lord  Gaunt  had 
given  her.  There  were  some  Belgian  hares,  a  rakish- 
looking  jackdaw,  who  was  quite  a  linguist  in  his  way,  a 
tame  hawk,  and  a  couple  of  Norwegian  rats,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  a  tortoise  and  a  case  of  green  lizards. 

Gaunt  had  given  her  these  from  time  to  time,  bringing 
them  up  in  his  poeket  and  stealing  a  secret  joy  in  her 
girlish  delight  at  receiving  them. 

As  Decima  fed  and  played  with  her  pets,  she  remem- 
bered the  happy  minutes  she  had  spent  with  Lord  Gaunt 
in  the  room  ;  how  he  had  told  her  the  history  of  each  of 
the  animals,  and  had  been  coaxed  by  her  into  narrating- 
some  of  his  hunting  stories.  She  could  almost  see  him  as 
he  had  leaned  against  the  wall,  smoking  his  cigarette,  and 
smiling  down  at  her  as  she  knelt  beside  one  of  the  ca§ 
He  had  never  been  anything  else  but  kind  to  her  ever 
since  the  first  day  she  bad  met  him.  Now  he  was  gone,, 
and  she  should,  prehaps,  never  see  him  again ! 

She  sighed  as  she  took  the  jackdaw  on  her  hand  and 
stroked  his  black  plumes,  and  the  bird  croaked  as  if  in 
sympathy. 

Suddenly  the  door  opened,  and  looking  round  she  saw 
Bobby.  She  sprang  to  her  feet  with  a  glad  cry,  and  flung 
her  arms  round  Bobby's  neck,  the  jackdaw  flying  with  a 
shriek  to  the  ceiling.  Then,  as  she  looked  up  into  his 
face,  she  drew  back  with  a  little  cry  of  alarm  and  appre- 
hension. 

Was  this  Bobby,  the  bright,  laughing-eyed  boy,  whose 
every  word  was  a  jest — this  pale  young  man,  with  gaunt 
cheeks  and  black  marks  under  his  eyes ! 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  61 

"  Bobby  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  What  is  the  matter — are 
you  ill?" 

The  flush  rose  to  his  haggard  face  for  a  moment,  and 
he  averted  the  eyes  which  had  hitherto  met  hers  so 
straightly. 

"  I  am  rather  seedy,  Decie,"  he  said.  "  It's — it's  the 
London  life." 

He  sat  down  on  one  of  the  cages,  and  she  sat  close  be- 
side him,  and  got  hold  of  one  of  his  hands  and  pressed 
nncl  dragged  at  it  anxiously. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  were  coming?"  she  said. 
"  And,  oh,  Bobby,  you  must  be  ill  to  look  like  that !  " 

"  I  didn't  know  until  this  morning  that  I  was  coming," 
he  said,  ignoring  her  comment  on  his  appearance. 
•"  You're  not  looking  first-rate  yourself,  Decie,"  he  added, 
for  the  sudden  flush  of  excitement  had  left  her  face,  and 
its  ] tailor  was  perceptible. 

"  I'm  all  right,  Bobby,"  she  said.  "  But,  tell  me,  is 
anything  the  matter  ?  " 

He  looked  down  at  the  ground  and  began  to  roll  a 
cigarette,  and  she  could  see  that  his  hands  Avere  shaking. 

"  There  is  something  the  matter,  Decie,"  he  said. 
*'  You've  got  to  know  sooner  or  later ;  it  can't  be  kept 
from  you,  and  you'd  better  hear  it  from  me  than  any  one 
•else — we're  in  trouble,  Decie  !  " 

Trouble  !  Her  lips  formed  the  word ;  then  her  woman's 
courage  came  to  her  aid. 

«  Tell  me  all— everything,  Bobby  ! "  she  said.  "  What- 
ever it  is,  we  must  bear  it  and  meet  it ! " 

He  lit  his  cigarette,  but  it  went  out  again,  and  he  flung 
it  from  him  with  a  nervous  gesture. 

"  It  was  Mr.  Mershon  wired  for  me,"  he  said. 

"  Mr.  Mershon  !     Why  should  he  telegraph  to  you  ?  " 

"  Because  he  thought  I  ought  to  know — that  I  ought 
to  be  here.  He  was  quite  right,  of  course.  He  met  me 
at  the  station  and  told  me  all  about  it." 

"  All  about  it !  about  what  ?  Is  it — is  it  anything  to 
•do  with  this  business — this  company — of  father's?" 

Bobby  nodded  gloomily. 

"  Yes,"  he  .  said ;  "  that's  it.  The  affair  has  come  to 
.smash." 

Decima  drew  a  long  breath. 


62  1IKK  UEAirrs  DESIRE. 

"To  utter  smash!"  he  said.  "I  don't  understand  it 
all,  even  no\v,  though  Mershon  tried  to  explain.  There 
was  something  wrong  in  the  invention — the  patent 
wouldn't  hold  water — I  don't  quite  know  what  it  v 
Mershon  tried  not  to  put  the  blame  on  the  governor,  but 
he  let  it  out  reluctantly." 

Decima  sat  pale  and  silent  for  a   moment;  tin  i 
murmured  : 

"  Why  did  he  join  Mr.  Mershon?" 

"Honestly,  I  don't  think  Mershon's  to  blame,"  said 
Bobby.  "  He  was  led  away  by  the  governor's  enthusiasm. 
Who  wouldn't  be?  You  know  the  way  he  talks.  I  don't 
think  Mershon's  such  a  bad  fellow,  after  all.  He — 1; 
behaving  very  well  about  it.  He  has  lost  a  lot  of  money 
in  the  affair." 

"  I  am  sorry  !  "  said  Decima  ;  "  very,  very  sorry  !  But 
Mr.  Mershon  is  a  rich  man,  and  it  will  not  matter  to  him. 
But  it  will  matter  very  much  to  poor  father — for  we  are 
not  rich,  are  we,  Bobby?  But,  never  mind  " — she  for. 
a  smile — "  we  will  meet  it  as  best  we  can  :  we  shall  have 
to  economize.  You  will  only  be  able  to  smoke  half  as 
many  cigarettes,  Bobby," 

She  crept  closer  to  him,  and  laid  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder.  It  was  the  only  word  of  reproach  she  would 
utter. 

Bobby  looked  down  at  her  remorsefully,  and  then  away 
suddenly,  as  if  he  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  her  brave 
smile,  which  touched  him  more  than  tears  would  have 
done. 

"  We  shall  have  to  leave  the  Woodbines,  I  supp< 
she  said.     She  stifled  a  sigh.     u  Well,  never  mind;  we 
can  go  into  one  of  the  new  little  cottages,  and  live  vt-ry 
quietly  and  plainly— 

Bobby's  face  worked,  and  his  lips  parted,  as  if  he  were 
about  to  speak ;  but  his  courage  failed  him,  and  he  got 
up  quickly,  his  face  averted  from  her. 

"  I'll— I'll  go  and  change,"  he  said.  "  We — we  will  talk 
about  it  after  dinner." 

He  hurried  out  of  the  room. 

Decima  sat  where  he  had  left  her,  her  hands  clasped  in 
her  lap.  Although  she  had  not  been  altogether  unpre- 
pared, the  blow  had  fallen  heavily. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  63 

Presently  she  heard  steps  coming  toward  the  door,  and 
she  thought  it  was  Bobby  returning,  but  the  door  opened, 
and  Mr.  Mershoirs  voice  said  : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  is  your  brother  here  ?  " 

Decima  arose  and  moved  away  slightly. 

"  lie  has  just  gone-,"1  she  said. 

Mershon  came  into  the  room,  and  stood  looking  at  her. 

"I  see  he  has  told  you,  Miss  Decima?"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  said  Decima,  with  her  back  turned  almost  to 
him.  "  lie  has  told  me,  and  I  am  very  sorry  !  I  am 
sorry  that  you  should  lose  so  much  money  through  my 
Father's  fault." 

He  drew  a  little  nearer. 

"  There's  no  occasion  to  lie  sorry  on  my  account,"  he 
said.  u  I  sha'n't  miss  it.  I'm  sorry,  too — for  your  father." 

Decima  sighed. 

"We  must  bear  it,"  she  said.  "  I  have  just  been  tell- 
ing Bobby  that  we  must  leave  the  Woodbines  and  live 
very  plainly,  like — like  poor  people — which  I  suppose  we 
shall  be.  There  is  nothing  very  hard  in  that." 

lie  looked  at  her  with  a  curious  expression. 

"  And — and  perhaps,  if  we  are  very  careful,"  she  went 
on,  in  a  low  voice,  "  we  may  be  able  to  pay  you  back  some 
of  the  money  you  have  lost  through  us — I  don't  know 
how  much  it  is." 

Mershon  suppressed  a  smile. 

"  I'm  afraid  your  brother  hasn't  told  you  all,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  Decima  ;  "  he  has  told  me  all.  He  is  bear- 
ing it  bravely  !  Poor  Bobby  !  It  will  be  a  struggle  for 
him ;  for  he  will  have  to  manage  with  a  very  small  al- 
lowance, I'm  afraid.  But  it  will  be  all  right  when  he 
gets  into  the  army  ;  for  he  is  so  clever  that  he  is  sure  to 
get  on." 

"  It  is  evident  that  he  hasn't  told  you  all,"  said  Mershon. 
"  I'm  afraid.  Miss  Decima,  that  the  case  is  worse  than  you 
guess.  I  didn't  know  how  bad  it  was  myself  until  I'd  had 
a  talk  with  your  father  and  brother  together." 

Decima  looked  at  him  with  slowly  growing  appre- 
hension. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  said,  faintly.  "  How  can 
it  be  worse  ?  " 

"  Well,"  he  said,  with  a  slight  shrug  of  his  shoulders, 


64  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  you  talk  about  paying  me  back,  and  your  brother  going 
into  the  army,  but  I'm  afraid  there's  little  chance  of  either 
event  coming  off — not  that  I  want  to  be  paid  back,  or 
should  take  the  money.  The  fact  is,  Miss  Decima,  your 
father  has  been  going  in  for  this  thing  neck  or  nothing— 
what  AVC  call  in  the  city,  lose  all  or  win  all.  It  app< 
— mind !  I  didn't  know  it,  or  I  should  strongly  have  ad- 
vised him  against  such  foolhardincss — that  he  has  put 
i -very  penny  he  possessed  into  this  confounded  thing. 
And,  of  course,  he  has  lost  it.  In  fact,  I'm  afraid  he  lias 
made  himself  liable  for  more  than  he  has  got.  lie  says 
he  is  utterly  ruined  !  " 

Decima  stared  at  him  with  wide  eyes  ;  her  lips  quivered, 
but  no  sound  came. 

Mershon  went  and  closed  the  door  with  his  foot ;  then 
he  came  near  to  her — as  near  as  he  dared. 

"  Look  here,  Miss  Decima,''  he  said.  "  It's  best  to  face 
these  things  straight  out,  and  so  I've  told  you  the  a" 
lute  truth.  Your  father's  ruined,  and  your  brother  will 
have  to  give  up  all  idea  of  the  army,  and  take  his  chances 
in  the  colonies — and  a  deuced  poor  chance  it  is,  I'm  afraid  ! 
That  is,  unless " 

He  paused  and  looked  at  her,  and  then  down  at  the 
ground,  for  the  terror  in  her  eyes  and  white  face  daunted 
even  him  for  a  moment. 

"  Unless,"  he  went  on.     "  Well,  it  all  rests  with  you !  " 

"With  me?" 

Her  lips  formed  the  words  ;  they  were  scarcely  audible. 

"  Yes,  with  you ! "  he  said.  "  Miss  Decima,  I'm  a 
straight  man.  We  have  to  speak  out  straight  in  the  city 
— and  I  won't  treat  you  as  a  child,  but  as  a  girl — a  woman 
upon  whom  her  father's  and  brother's  happiness  and  wel- 
fare depend.  This  trouble's  about  as  big  as  it  can  be. 
They  must  go  under  with  it,  unless  you  care  to  save 
them  !  " 

"  I — I  save  them  !  "  said  Decima. 

He  jerked  his  head. 

"Yes!  You  remember  what  I  said  to  you  the  other 
night  at  the  Leafmore  ball.  I  told  you  I  loved  you,  and  I 
asked  you  to  be  my  wife.  You  said  '  No  ! '  then,  but  now 
I  repeat  my  proposal.  If  you  will  say  '  Yes,'  I  will  take 
this  trouble  off  your  hands.  I  will  find  the  money  your 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  65 

father's  lost ;  I  will  double  your  brother's  allowance — and 
pay  his  debts " 

"  His  debts  !  "  breathed  Decima. 

]\Iershon  laughed  shortly. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  there  are  debts  !  He  has  been  going  the 
pace  !  I'll  do  more  than  this — I'll  keep  an  eye  on  your 
father  for  the  future,  and  look  after  him.  And  I'll  make 
a  settlement  on  you  as  large  as  you  like." 

In  his  eagerness  he  had  taken  a  step  or  two  nearer. 
Decima  drew  back  until  she  leaned  against  the  window. 
Her  brain  was  whirling  ;  she  felt  as  if  she  were  suffocat- 
ing, and  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  his  shrewd,  sharp  face  as 
if  she  were  under  a  spell. 

"  ( 'ome  !  "  he  said.  "  I've  made  the  offer  bluntly,  be- 
cause it's  business ;  but  I  could  put  it  in  another  way. 
I  love  you,  Decima — love  you  with  all  my  heart  and  soul. 
I  want  you  more  than  I've  wanted  anything  before  in  my 
life.  If  you'd  said  '  Yes '  to  me  the  other  night,  you'd 
never  have  heard  anything  of  this  trouble— I'd  have  paid 
up  every  penny,  and  said  not  a  syllable  about  it.  That's 
my  way.  But  you  said  '  Xo ! '  and  I'm  obliged  to  tell 
you,  and  make  a  bargain  with  you.  You  close  with  my 
offer,  and  I'll  never  refer  to  it  again.  No  one  need  know 
anything  about  it — not  even  your  brother— for  I  can  tell 
him  that  things  have  turned  out  better  than  we  expected. 
It  will  be  easy  to  bamboozle  him,  for  he  knows  as  little  of 
business  as  do  the  rest  of  you — Do  you  mind  me  smok- 
ing, for  I'm  a  little  upset?  I  see  your  brother's  had  a 
cigarette " 

He  lit  a  cigar,  and  his  hand  shook  as  Bobby's  had  done, 
but  with  a  different  emotion.  Decima  put  up  a  shak- 
ing hand  and  brushed  the  soft  hair  from  her  forehead. 
No  bird  in  the  fowler's  net  was  more  helpless  than  she 
was  at  that  moment.  '  As  Mershon  had  said  to  his  sister, 
he  had  got  her  tightly.  Her  father  ruined  ;  Bobby's 
future  absolutely  blasted.  And  by  a  word,  a  word  of 
three  letters,  she  could  save  them. 

She  thought  of  her  father,  broken-hearted  by  his  fail- 
ure, cooped  up  in  a  laborer's  cottage,  deprived  of  his  work- 
shop, of  all  his  dreams ;  she  thought  of  Bobby,  the  bright 
boy,  with  his  shattered  hopes,  starving  in  the  colonies, 
and  a  shudder  swept  over  her. 


66  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

She  could  save  him  by  the  one  word,  "  Yes." 

At  that  moment — why,  she  knew  not — she  thought  of 
Lord  Gaunt.  If  he  were  only  here  to  help  her,  advise 
her!  But  he  was  not  la-re;  he  might  he  thousands  of 
miles  away.  She  was  alone  and  helpl 

3Iershon  eyed  her  covertly.     He  knew  that  sh< 
struggling ;  but  he  knew  that  there  was  no  loophole  in 
the  net  he  had  drawn  round  her. 

i-  What  do  you  say  ?  "  he  said  at  last. 

Decima  seemed  to  wake  as  if  from  a  dream,  and  turned 
her  eyes  upon  him  with  a  half-dazed,  half-appealing 
gaze. 

'•  Why  do  you  hesitate  ?  "  he  said.  "  Give  me  your  an- 
swer. Say  '  Yes,'  Decima,  and  I'll  go  straight  in  and  tell 
your  father  and  brother  that  they  needn't  worry  them- 
selves any  more  about  this  miserable  business.  Your 
father  can  go  on  playing  at  making  his  fortune  by  inven- 
tions, and  your  brother  can  go  into  the  army  and  be  a 
general  in  time.  Only  say  the  word,  and  leave  the  rest 
to  me."  There  was  silence  in  the  room,  broken  only  by 
the  faint  croak  of  the  jackdaw  as  he  preened  his  feathers. 
The  slim,  girlish  figure,  with  its  white  face  and  dark- 
rimmed  eyes,  leaned  by  the  window.  Her  heart  was  like 
lead,  and  beat  slowly  and  heavily,  as  if  it  were  impris- 
oned by  a  hand  of  ice. 

To  save  them,  the  dear  ones ! 

"•  Well !  "  he  said,  "what  is  your  answer  ?  " 

Her  hands  clenched  at  her  side,  the  martyr's  look  cams 
into  her  eyes. 

"  I  must !  I  must !  "  she  breathed.     "  Yes." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


As  Decima  hesitatingly  pronounced  the  word  "Ye 
Mershon  took  a  step  toward  her  with  outstretched  arms ; 
but  he  noticed  a  repellent  look  in  her  face  as  she  shrank 
from  him.  The  color  died  from  his  cheek  and  his  arms 
fell  to  his  side  irresolutely.  He  could  see  that  she  was 
not  yet  prepared  to  welcome  lover-like  familial 

As  the  days  passed,  and  their  intercourse  became  more 
frequent,  her  studied  reserve  curbed  his  passionate  do- 


HER  HEAET'S  DESIRE.  67 

sire,  and  he  was  forced  to  forego  the  privileges  of  an 
engaged  man. 

When  Bobby  heard  of  Decima's  engagement  he  was 
amazed,  but  not  at  all  displeased.  He  believed  Mershon 
to  be  both  honorable  and  generous,  and  inferred  that  the 
courtship  had  developed  and  progressed  during  his  ab- 
sence in  London.  He  questioned  his  sister  about  it,  and 
to  his  pointed  inquiry  she  replied  that  she  had  willingly 
become  Mershon's  plighted  bride. 

A  few  more  days  elapsed,  and  then  Mershon  announced 
to  Decima  that  he  had  business  which  demanded  his 
presence  in  Italy,  in  regard  to  the  construction  of  water- 
works in  one  of  the  Italian  cities.  He  proposed  an  early 
marriage,  so  that  he  could  take  her  with  him  to  Rome, 
and  thus  combine  business  with  pleasure  on  their  matri- 
monial trip.  For  a  long  time  she  opposed  this  scheme, 
but  at  length  his  persistence  won  a  reluctant  assent.  She 
thought  of  her  father,  of  Bobby.  What  did  it  matter 
what  happened  to  her,  if  they  were  safe  and 
secure  ? 

Mrs.  Sherborne,  who  had  learned  to  love  Decima,  saw 
that  she  was  not  as  happy  as  a  prospective  bride  should 
be,  and  inferred  from  a  conversation  with  her  that  some- 
thing was  wrong — in  fact,  that  she  did  not  love  the  man 
she  was  about  to  marry. 

"  If  you  do  not  love  Theodore,"  Mrs.  Sherborne  said, 
"  better  draw  back  now.  He  is  all  very  well  when  things 
are  going  as  he  wants  them, ;  but  when  thwarted  he  is  a 
devil  incarnate.  My  poor  child,  the  discovery  that  his 
wedded  wife  did  not  love  him  would  enrage  him  to  that 
extent  he  would  make  life  a  hell  for  you  !  " 

Decima  listened  in  silence  gasping  for  breath.  She 
thought  of  her  father's  plight,  of  Bobby's  troubles,  and 
determined  to  sacrifice  herself  for  their  sake. 

"  Child  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sherborne,  "  there  is  yet  time 
to  draw  back.  Do  so  at  any  cost,  before  it  is  too  late ! 
Better  be  lying  out  there  in  the  churchyard,  better  be 
wandering  homeless  in  the  streets,  than  marry  a  man  you 
do  not  love  !  " 

Decima  was  pale  to  the  lips,  and  iiy  her  eyes  there 
gleamed  a  look  of  horror.  Yet  she  managed  to  say,  with 
a  gas.p  after  each  word : 


68  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  It  is  too  late !  I  have  given  my  word.  I  must  do  it. 
I  cannot  draw  back  !  " 

That  night  proved  a  sleepless  one  to  Decima.  She 
knew  not  how  to  act — whether  to  keep  her  engagement  or 
break  it. 

The  next  morning  she  resolved  to  go  to  London,  to 
visit  her  aunt,  Lady  Pauline.  She  would  be  guided  by 
her  advice.  She  did  not  inform  Mr.  Mershon  of  her  in- 
tention, for  she  feared  he  would  insist  upon  accompanying 
her. 

To  her  dismay,  when  she  arrived  at  Lady  Pauline's 
residence,  at  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  she 
learned  from  a  servant  that  her  aunt  was  not  at  home — 
that  she  had  gone  to  Walfield  on  the  previous  day. 

This  was  a  great  disappointment  to  Decima,  and  for  a 
few  moments  she  was  in  a  state  of  deep  perplexity.  Then 
she  thought  of  Bobby,  who  some  days  before  had  returned 
to  the  metropolis. 

"  My  brother  is  in  London,",  she  said  to  the  servant. 
"He  is  living  at  Prince's  Mansions.  I  will  go  straight  to 
him ;  he  will  bring  me  back  here  to-night.  Where  is 
Prince's  Mansions  ?  " 

The  servant  said  she  did  not  know,  but  that  any  call- 
man  would  find  it ;  and  eventually  Decima  found  her.se If 
in  a  hansom,  rattling  toward  the  rooms  Lord  Gaunt  had 
lent  Bobby. 

A  page  opened  the  door  to  her,  and  gazed  at  her,  after 
the  manner  of  his  kind,  when  she  inquired  for  Mr.  Deane. 

"I  don't  know  whether  he's  in,  miss,"  he  said,  "  but  Til 
•step  up  and  see." 

"  I  will  come,  too,"  said  Decima.     "  I  am  his  sister." 

The  page  opened  the  outer  door  of  Gaunt's  flat,  and 
Decima  followed  him  though  the  hall  into  the  drawing  or 
sitting-room. 

A  tire  was  burning  in  the  grate  ;  there  was  an  odor  of 
cigarettes.  The  page  looked  around. 

"  Mr.  Deane  ain't  here,  miss ;  but  I  expect  he'll  be  here 
directly." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Decima.     "  I  will  wait." 

She  sat  down  in  a  chair  beside  the  fire  and  looked  round 
the  room.  It  was  beautifully  warm,  and  its  luxury  and 
air  of  taste  and  refinement  struck  upon  her  gratefully. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  69 

She  noticed  the  exquisite  pictures,  the  rare  bronzes,  the 
fur  rugs  of  leopard  and  bear  skins.  Then  she  remembered 
that  the  room  was  Lord  Gaunt 's  :  that  he  had  lived  there ; 
and  a  strange  feeling  stole  over  her. 

Presently  there  came  a  soft  knock  at  the  door,  and  a 
maid — a  neatly-dressed  London  maid,  in  black  alpaca  with 
a  white  cap,  and  long  strings — entered  with  some  tea 
things. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  take  your  things  off,  miss  ?  "  she 
said,  respectfully,  "and  I  have  brought  you  some  tea." 

Decima  assented  gratefully,  and  the  maid  led  her  into 
Bobby's  bedroom — that  is  to  say,  Lord  Gaunt's.  Decima 
looked  round  with  a  curious  feeling  as  the  maid  helped 
her  to  remove  her  outdoor  things  and  went  for  some  hot 
water. 

There  was  an  odor  of  cigarettes  in  this  room,  also.  A 
dress  suit  of  Bobby's  lay  folded  on  a  chair;  a  peculiar 
perfume  arose  from  it — it  struck  Decima  unpleasantly. 
A  copy  of  a  sporting  paper  was  on  a  chair  beside  the  bed, 
as  if  Bobby  had  thrown  it  down  just  before  going  to  sleep. 
There  were  etchings  on  the  wall,  delicate,  delightful  bits 
of  art,  which  reminded  her  of  Lord  Gaunt,  as  Bobby's 
clothes  and  the  cigarette  fumes  and  the  sporting  paper 
had  reminded  her  of  Bobby. 

She  washed  her  hands  and  face,  and  brushed  the  soft, 
wavy  hair,  and  went  back  to  the  sitting-room.  The  maid 
had  placed  the  tea-service  on  a  little  table  in  front  of  the 
fire  ;  and  Decima  poured  herself  out  a  cup,  looking  round 
the  room,  musingly  and  with  intense  interest, 

It  seemed  to  her  eloquent  of  Lord  Gaunt.  Her  mind 
dwelt  upon  him.  He  had  lived  in  this  room ;  had  sat  in 
this  very  chair,  perhaps ;  had  drunk  out  of  this  very  cup. 
AVhere  was  he  now  ?  she  wondered. 

She  sighed  and  leaned  back.  If  he  had  only  been  here  ! 
She  could  have  told  him  of  her  trouble.  He  could  have 
helped  her  ;  advised  her.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  her 
heart  ached  with  a  yearning  for  his  presence. 

She  rose,  and  went  round  the  room,  looking  at  the 
various  articles  upon  the  tables  and  cabinets.  There  was 
a  strange  mixture — a  carving  in  ivory,  a  bronze  medallion  ; 
an  illuminated  missal  lay  beside  a  well-used  Persian  pipe. 
Upon  the  walls  hung  swords  and  spears — not  the  orna- 


70  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

meats  you  buy  in  Wardour  Street,  but  weapons  which 
had  been  used,  and  still  bore  stains  of  blood.  She  touched 
one  with  her  finger  and  shuddered. 

Yes,  the  room  was  eloquent  of  him.  She  got  round  to 
the  mantel  at  last.  It,  too,  was  crowded  with  bric-a-brac ; 
but  one  thing  among  them  attracted  and  chained  her  at- 
tention— it  was  the  portrait — a  cabinet  photograph — of  a 
woman's  face  and  bust.  It  was  a  beautiful  face ;  more  than 
beautiful — fascinating.  A  dark  face,  of  perfect  oval,  with 
dark  eyes,  which  smiled  wi tellingly,  fascinatingly,  as  did 
the  small  full  lips.  She  wore  a  low-necked  dress — very 
low — and  the  white  neck  and  bust  shone  snow-like  against 
the  dark  hair  and  eyes. 

Decima  looked  at  it,  and,  as  she  looked,  a  strange  re- 
pulsion took  possession  of  her. 

The  face  was  beautiful,  fascinating ;  but  to  Decima  the 
beauty  was  repellent,  the  witchery  unholy.  The  face 
jarred  upon  her,  and  yet  she  could  not  take  her  eyes  from 
it.  It  was  enclosed  in  a  costly  silver  frame.  She  took  it 
in  her  hand,  and  studied  the  face — her  brows  drawn 
straight. 

Who  was  it  ?   Some  friend  of  Bobby's — or  Lord  Gaunt's  ? 

While  the  photograph  was  in  her  hand  she  heard  the 
hall  door  open,  and  she  raised  her  head  listening  expect- 
antly. Steps  came  along  the  hall,  a  hand  turned  the  handle 
of  the  door. 

"  Bobby  ! ' '  she  almost  exclaimed  aloud,  and  she  put  the 
photograph  hurriedly,  face,  downward,  upon  the  mantel, 
and  went  to  meet  him  with  a  smile  on  her  face. 

The  door  opened,  and  a  tall  figure  in  a  fur  coat  entered. 
It  was  too  tall  for  Bobby,  but  for  a  moment  she  did  not 
recognize  him  ;  then,  as  he  turned  from  closing  the  door 
and  presented  his  face  to  her,  she  saw  that  it  was  Lord 
(Jaunt ! 

She  shrank  back,  her  outstretched  arms  falling  to  her 
side.  He  looked  at  her,  stopped  short,  then,  exclaiming : 
"  Good  God,  Decima !  "  came  toward  her. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  71 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

!  " 

He  stood  stockstill  and  gazed  at  her  as  if  she  were  a 
ghost,  a  vision  called  up  by  his  longing  desire  for  her. 
He  was  thin,  and  his  face  looked  worn  and  haggard  and 
white  against  the  dark  thick  fur  of  his  coat ;  and  there 
was  an  expression  almost  of  dread  in  his  eyes  as  they 
dwelt  on  her  face. 

He  had  been  in  Scotland,  far  in  Sutherlandshire,  quite 
alone,  wandering  in  the  wilds,  going  through  the  pretence 
of  fishing,  shooting,  fighting  against  the  mad  love  which 
consumed  him,  as  men  fight  vainly  against  the  flames 
which  spring  up  afresh  against  the  beating  hands.  And 
at  last  he  had  acknowledged  himself  beaten,  had  resolved 
to  leave  England  forever.  He  would  go  without  a  word 
of  farewell — as  he  had  often  gone  before — and  leave  no 
trace  behind,  him. 

He  had  booked  his  passage,  the  vessel  sailed  on  the 
morrow ;  and  he  had  come  to  his  rooms  to  get  his  gun  and 
other  weapons  necessary  for  the  killing  of  the  big  game 
which  he  hoped  and  prayed  would  divert  his  mind  and 
help  him  to  kill  the  memory  of  his  girl-love. 

He  should  never  see  her  again !  And  now,  here  she 
stood  before  him — within  reach  of  his  hand — unless  she 
were  indeed  only  a  wraith  of  herself,  a  vision,  a  ghost ! 

His  breath — it  had  seemed  to  cease — came  again 
quickly,  but  he  could  not  speak,  though  his  lips  formed 
her  name  again. 

The  blood  had  rushed  to  Decima's  face,  something 
warm  seemed  to  run  through  her  veins,  a  swift,  sudden 
joy  leaped  in  her  heart. 

"  Lord  Gaunt !     Is  it  really  you  ?  "  she  said,  at  last. 

And  her  voice  rang  like  soft  music  in  his  ears.  It  was 
the  sound  he  had  been  thirsting  for  all  these  weary, 
weary  weeks.  How  often,  in  fancy,  had  he  heard  it  in 
the  great  solitude  among  the  mountains  ! 

"  Yes,  it  is  I !  "  he  responded,  as  if  to  assure  himself 
that  he  was  awake  and  not  dreaming.  "  What — why  are 
you  here  ?  " 


72  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

He  did  not  offer  to  shake  hands — did  not  move  toward 
her,  but  still  stood  gazing  at  her.  And  she,  for  her  part, 
stood  still  also,  her  hand  resting  on  the  back  of  the 
chair. 

"  I — I  came  to  see  Bobby,"  she  said. 

He  looked  round. 

"  He  is  not  here  ?  " 

"  Xo,"  she  said.  "  He  is  out ;  he  is  coming  back  pres- 
ently, they  say.  Where  have  you  come  from ;  does  he 
expect  you  ?  " 

"No,"  he  said.  "I  have  come  from  Scotland — from 
Sutherlandshire." 

Mechanically,  slowly,  like  a  man  in  a  dream,  he  took  off 
his  huge  fur  coat  and  dropped  it  on  the  couch,  and  came 
toward  the  fire. 

Decima  looked  at  him,  and  saw  more  plainly  as  the 
firelight  played  on  his  face,  how  worn  and  haggard  he 
looked. 

"  Have — have  you  been  ill  ?  "  she  asked,  timidly. 

"  111  ?    No ! "  he  replied. 

He  raised  his  head  and  glanced  at  her.  He  scarcely 
dared  to  look  long  at  her  lest  the  desire  to  take  her  in  his 
arms  should  get  the  better  of  him. 

"  And — and  you  ?  You  look — you  are  thinner,  paler. 
Have  you  been  ill  ?  " 

"  Xo,"  she  said  simply.  "  I  am  quite  well.  What  have 
you  been  doing  all — all  this  time  ?  " 

"  Fishing,  shooting,"  he  said.  " '  All  this  time.'  Does 
it  seem  so  long  ?  " 

"  Yes,  very  long,"  she  replied,  with  the  ghost  of  a  sigh, 
as  she  looked  at  the  fire.  "  How  long  is  it  r1  I — I  scarce- 
ly remember.  Why — why  did  you  go  so  suddenly,  Lord 
Gaunt  ?  " 

He  caught  his  breath  to  keep  back  the  words,  "bec;iuso 
I  loved  you.  Because  I  should  have  gone  mad  if  I  had 
.stayed ! "  Then  he  said  aloud,  with  a  low,  strained 
laugh : 

"  I  wanted  a  change." 

Decima  nodded. 

u  And  have  you  enjoyed  it  ?  " 

"  Very  much  !  "  he  said  with  bitter  irony. 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.     The  antique  clock, 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  73 

with  its  figures  of  relentless   Time  mowing  down  the 
minutes  with  his  scythe,  ticked  mockingly. 

"  And — and  what  is  the  news  from  Leafmore  ?  Is 
your  father  well !  " 

"Yes,"  she  said. 

"  And — and  Bright,  and  the  rest  ?  " 

He  put  the  commonplace  question  in  a  dull,  mechanical 
fashion. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  again.  Then  she  glanced  at  him.  "  It 
has  gone  on  as  if — as  if  you  had  been  there.  The  schools 
are  nearly  finished.  They  look  very  pretty,  and — and — 
But  you  will  see  them,  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  absently. 

He  was  listening  to  her  voice  rather  than  to  her  words 
— drinking  it  in.  He  was  trying  to  realize  that  she  was 
liere,  close  by  him,  alone — alone  ! — with  him. 

"  My — my  movements  are  rather  uncertain." 

"  Have  you  only  just  come  from  Scotland  ?  "  she  asked, 
glancing  at  the  fur  coat — at  his  tired  face. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  ;  "  this  moment." 

"  You  must  be  tired !  Will  you  let  me  give  you  some 
tea  ? "  She  laughed  softly,  timidly.  "  That  sounds 
strange— asking  you  in  your  own  house  !  Shall  I — may 
I  ring  for  some  more  water  ?  " 

"  Xo,  no,"  he  said,  quickly.  He  did  not  want  the  maid 
— any  one — to  come  in ;  did  not  want  any  other  voice 
than  hers  in  the  rooms.  "  That  will  do." 

"It  is  quite  hot  still,"  she  said.  She  poured  out  a  cup 
of  tea,  and  carried  it  to  him  ;  he  had  not  moved  or  offered 
to  go  to  the  table.  He  took  it  from  her  with  a  slight  in- 
clination of  the  head,  and  his  hand,  in  transferring  the 
cup,  just  touched  hers.  He  stood  holding  the  cup,  as  if 
he  had  forgotten  it. 

"  Won't  you  sit  down  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  have  got  your- 
chair.  Will  you  not  come  into  it  ?  You  see  I  am  forget- 
ting that  this  is  your  room  and  your  chair." 

He  shook  his  head,  and  drew  a  chair  forward,  quite 
close  to  the  fire  and  signed  to  her  to  take  the  big  one. 
She  sat  down,  her  hands  resting  in  her  lap,  her  eyes  fixed 
on  the  blaze  as  it  rose  and  fell  fitfully,  one  moment  light- 
ing up  their  faces,  the  next  casting  them  into  shadow. 

Gradually  the  wan  look  was  leaving  his  face,  a  light 


74  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

began  to  dawn  in  his  eyes.  Her  presence,  her  nearness, 
was  having  its  effect  upon  him.  He  could  hear  her  even 
breathing,  could  feel,  though  he  did  not  look  at  her,  the 
eyes  he  loved  so  passionately  glancing  at  him  now  and 
again.  She  was  here — here  by  his  side,  his  dear,  sweet 
girl  love.  He  forgot  all  else.  The' silence  did  not  seem 
irksome,  or  embarrassing;  it  was  as  if  his  thoughts 
spoke,  and  no  lip  language  were  necessary.  But  at  last 
he  said  : 

"  And  so  all  is  going  on  well  at  Leaf  more  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  with  a  slight  start.  Upon  her,  too,  a 
kind  of  peace — a  lull  in  the  storm — had  fallen.  "  Yes  ; 
31  r.  Bright  has  been  working  very  hard— 

"  Which  means  that  you  have  also !  "  he  said  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  And  a  very  great  deal  has  been  done.  You  will  be 
surprised  at  the  change,  at  the  improvement !  Mr.  Bright 
.says  that  it  will  be  the  model  village — the  example  for 
the  rest  of  England.  He  is  very  proud  of  it  and  the 
people — ah,  you  should  hear  what  they  say  !  It  would 
make  you  very  happy,  Lord  Gaunt !  " 

"Would  it?"  he  said,  slowly.  "And  you — are  you 
happy — content  ?  " 

She  winced  slightly,  as  one  winces  when  a  hand 
touches,  though  gently,  a  wound  forgotten  for  the  mo- 
ment. 

"I  am  quite  content,"  she  said,  ignoring  the  "happy." 
"Why,  have  you  not  done  all  I — Mr.  Bright  and  the 
people  wanted?  Yes,  quite  content  and  satisfied.'1 

"  Then  I  am  also,"  he  said,  gravely. 

u  Will  you  have  some  more  tea?"  she  asked.  "And 
will  you  not  eat  something — some  bread  and  butter  ? " 

"  Only  some  tea,  please,"  he  said.  She  filled  his  cup 
again,  and  he  took  it,  looking  at  her  as  he  did  so.  Was 
it  fancy  on  his  part,  or  had  her  lovely  face  grown  less 
pale,  the  eyes  less  sad  ?  " 

She  leaned  back  and  glanced  up  at  the  clock. 

"Bobby  has  not  come  yet,"  she  said,  reflectingly.  u  I 
wonder  how  long  ?  " — Then,  as  if  it  had  suddenly  occurred 
to  her,  «  Oh,  Lord  Gaunt,  had  I  not  better  go  ?  I— I  must 
be  in  your  way  !  "  She  said  it  quite  frankly,  and  her  « 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  75 

sought  his  face  innocently,  as  one  man's  might  seek  an- 
other's, and  she  rose. 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  almost  touched  her. 

"No,  no!"  he  said.  "Do  not  go.  Stay!  Bobby  will 
be  here  directly,  no  doubt.  How  long  have  you  been  in 
London  ? "  He  went  on  as  if  by  talking  he  could  keep 
her. 

"Only  this  afternoon,"  she  said.  "I  have  only  just 
come  up.  I  came  up  suddenly,  unexpectedly."  Her  voiee 
faltered,  and  her  face  grew  grave.  She  remembered — it 
came  upon  her  like  a  flash — the  reason  for  the  journey ; 
and  the  remembrance  clouded  over  her  unconscious  joy 
in  his  presence.  "  I  found  that  Aunt  Pauline  was  nob  in. 
London — she  is  at  her  country  house — and  I  came  on  here 
to  spend  the  evening  with  Bobby.  I  am  going  to  Aunt 
Pauline's  to  sleep." 

"  I  see,"  he  said.  "  Why  did  you  come  up  so  sud- 
denly ?  " 

She  was  silent  a  moment.  Why  could  she  not  tell 
him  ?  And  yet  she  could  not. 

"I  wanted  to  see  her,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Is — is  anything  the  matter?"  he  asked,  noting  her 
sudden  gravity,  the  cloud  on  her  face. 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  At  least  something  has  been  the 
matter.  We — father — -has  been  in  great  trouble — 

"  Trouble  !  "  he  repeated,  intently.     «  What  trouble  ?  " 

She  sighed. 

"  He  has  lost  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  at  first  we 
thought,  we  feared,  that — But  it  does  not  matter,  now." 
Her  voice  was  very  still  and  subdued.  "It  is  all  over 
now — all  put  straight." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  ?  "  he  began  almost  fiercely. 

Then  he  stopped  as  she  looked  at  him  with  faint  sur- 
prise. 

"  I  would  have  told  you,"  she  said,  simply,  not  reproach- 
fully. "  But  I  did  not  know  where  you  were — no  one 
knew." 

"  No  ;  that  is  true  !  Forgive  me,"  he  said,  almost  in- 
audibly. 

She  had  been  in  trouble  and  in  need  of  him,  and  had 
not  been  able  to  come  to  him.  What  a  brute  he  had 
been ! 


76  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

«  And  -you  would  have  come  to  me  ?  "  he  said,  rather 
huskily. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  simply,  but  a  little  timidly.  "  There 
was  no  one  else  ;  and — and  you  are  always  so  kind.  You 
would  have  told  me  what  to  do,  advised  me,  would  you 
not?" 

"Yes,"  he  said,  still  more  huskily.  "I  would — God 
knows  how  gladly  ! '' 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said,  and  the  sweetness  of  her  voice 
hurt  him.  "  But  it  does  not  matter  now.  It  is  all  over." 

"  I  am  glad,"  he  said ;  "  and  yet  sorry  that— that  I 
hadn't  a  hand  in  getting  rid  of  the  trouble.  Are  you  sure 
that  it  is  past — done  with  'J.  " 

"  Yes,  quite,"  she  said,  in  the  same  still  voice. 

-She  put  her  hand  up  before  her  face,  as  if  the  fire  were 
burning  it,     He  rose,  and  took  a  Japanese  screen  from  the 
mantelshelf — his  hand  touched  the  portrait  lying   fi 
downward — and  gave  it  to  her.     And  with  a  murmured 
thanks  she  took  it  and  screened  her  face. 

"  How  did  your  father  come  to  lose  this  money  ?  "  asked 
Gaunt. 

Decima  turned  her  face  as  if  her  thoughts  had  been 
wandering  from  the  subject. 

"I  don't  quite  know.  It  was  through  some  specula- 
tion, something  to  do  with  one  of  his  inventions.  Mr. 
Mt-rshon  and  he  started  a  company,  I  think " 

u  Mershon  !  "  Gaunt  started,  and  looked  at  her  ear- 
nestly. "  Was  he  in  it  ?  How  did  he — ah,  I  remember  ! 
And  your  father  lost  his  money  ?  I  can  well  believe  it ! 
I  don't  know  much  of  Mr.  Mershon,  but  I  should  say— 

"  Oil,  hush  !  she  broke  in,  looking  up  at  him  as  if  she 
dreaded  the  next  words.  "  You — you  must  not  say— I 
must  not  listen  to — to  anything  against  him  !  " 

Gaunt  stopped  and  stared  at  her  with  a  frown. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  he  said— demanded,  rather. 

The  color  rose  to  her  face,  then  left  it  pale  again.  She 
raised  her  eyes  to  his  with  a  world  of  sad  resignation  in 
them. 

"  I  am  going  to  be  his  wife,"  she  said,  in  a  low  v 

Gaunt  did  not  move  fora  moment,  but  sat  like  one  sud- 
denly turned  to  stone.  Then  his  face  broke  up,  as  it  were 
and  he  rose  and  stood  before  her. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  77 

"  Going — to — be — his  wife  ?  "  he  repeated,  hoarsely.  His 
own  voice  sounded  like  a  muffled  bell,  the  room  spun  round 
with  him.  His  love  for  her,  his  jealousy,  rose  about  him 
like  a  great  wave  of  fire,  and  swept  over  him,  scorching 
him  as  it  passed.  "  You  are  going  to  marry  him  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  a  faint  wonder  in  her  sad 
eyes. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  almost  inaudibly  :  for  his  face,  his  voice, 
frightened  her. 

He  turned  from  her  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the  room. 
Then  he  came  back  and  stood  over  her,  a  tall  figure,  almost 
threatening  in  its  aspect. 

"  Do — do  you  love  him  ?  " 

She  was  silent,  and  his  face  grew  darker,  fiercer.  "  An- 
swer me  !  You  can  answer  me !  Yes  or  no  !  " 

She  rose,  drawn  to  her  feet  by  the  stress  of  his  emotion, 
and  her  answering  to  it. 

"  No !  "  her  lips  formed. 

He  drew  a  long  breath. 

«'  Then — then  why " 

lie  stopped  as  if  the  words  choked  him. 

She  stood  downcast  and  trembling. 

"  He — he  helped  us.  We  should  have  been  penniless. 
Bobby ' '— 

He  saw  it  all  in  an  instant. 

«  My  God  !  "  broke  forth  from  his  strained  lips.  "  Child  !  " 
— he  caught  her  arm  in  an  iron  grip — "  do  you  know — 
realize — what  it  is  you  are  doing  ?  Marry  Mershon ! 
You !  " 

His  grasp  hurt  her,  but  she  made  no  attempt  to  release 
her  arm  as  she  looked  up  at  him  piteously  and  with  faint 
surprise. 

"  Why — why  are  you  so  angry  with  me  ?  "  she  faltered. 
M  How  could  I  help  it  ?  He  said  that  if — if  I  married  him 
he  would  pay  this  money,  and — and  help  Bobby.  And — 
and  I  said  '  Yes,'  at  last.  I  could  not  have  taken  this 
money  from  him  without — he  would  not  have  given  it. 
And — and  it  does  not  matter  what  becomes  of  me  so  that 
they  are  safe  and — and  happy " 

His  grasp  tightened,  and  she  winced ;  but  he  was  all 
unconscious  of  the  pain  he  was  inflicting.  His  own  agony 
was  too  great.  The  thought  that  she  wa&  to  be  the  wife 


78  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

of  another  man — and  that  man  Mershon ! — was  rending 
iiis  heart  in  twain  ;  every  nerve  was  stretched  and  strained 
on  a  rack.  And  her  admission  that  she  did  not  love  the 
man  increased  the  torture. 

She  looked  up  at  him,  at  his  set  face  and  gleaming  eyes, 
with  a  questioning  terror. 

•'  Why — why  are  you  so  angry — why  do  you  care  so  ?  " 
she  faltered. 

A  shudder  ran  through  him,  and  the  set  rigidity  of  his 
face  relaxed,  melted,  so  to  speak. 

"  Good  heavens,  child,  don't  you  know  ? "  he  said, 
hoarsely. 

In  her  innocence  she  drew  a  little  nearer  to  him. 

"  Is  it  hecause  you — you  like  me,  because  we  have  been 
such  friends,  that  you  are  so  sorjy  for  me  ?  "  she  said. 
"  Perhaps  " — She  stopped  and  smiled — a  woeful  little  smile. 

"  Go  on  !  Speak  from  your  heart ;  hide  nothing  from 
me  !  "  he  commanded,  insisted,  hoarsely. 

"  Perhaps  if  I  had  come  to  you,  and — and  told  you  of 
our  trouble  you  would  have  married  me,"  she  said,  simply. 
"  I — I  think  you  like  me,  Lord  Gaunt.  And  I  could  not 
have  taken  the  money — unless  I  had  been  your  wife,  could 
I?" 

A  groan  broke  from  his  white  lips.  Fate  was  too  power- 
ful for  him.  He  had  fled  from  Temptation  but  Tempta- 
tion is  fleet  of  foot,  and  it  had  overtaken  him,  and  had  got 
him  under  its  heel. 

"  Child  !  "  he  said  in  a  low,  thick  voice.  "  Don't  you 
know  ?  Haven't  you  seen  ?  Can  you  not  guess  ?  I  love 
you !  •' 

She  shrank — for  even  in  him  passion  startled  and  awed 
her. 

"  You  love " 

"  I  love  you ! "  His  voice  broke  on  hers  fiercely.  "  I— 
love  you,  Decima  !  I  have  loved  you  from  the  beginning ! 
No  man  ever  loved  any  woman  as  I  love  you  !  You  are 
the  life  of  my  life,  the  soul  of  my  soul !  Every  thought 
is  of  you!  You  hold  my  heart  in  the  hollow  of  your 
hands  !  It  was  because  I  loved  you,  passionately,  madly, 
that  I  left  you,  fled  from  you  !  "  He  stopped  for  breath, 
and  caught  her  other  hand  and  gripped  it  fast,  as  if  he 
feared  she  would  be  torn  from  him  there  and  then. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  79 


CHAPTER  XV. 

DECIMA  stood  quite  still.  She  did  not  shrink  from  him ; 
she  was  too  overwhelmed  by  the  storm  of  his  passion  to 
realize  the  meaning  of  his  words.  Then,  slowly,  it  came 
crushing  down  upon  her,  caught  her  as  if  in  an  embrace, 
enveloped  her  like  a  sun- warmed  cloud.  Her  heart  leaped, 
then  beat  heavily — a  joy  beyond  the  power  of  poor  mor- 
tal words  to  him,  suffused  her. 

All  in  an  instant  a  veil  seemed  to  have  been  -torn  asun- 
der and  she  saw  and  knew  what  love  means,  and  that  her 
love,  with  all  it  meant,  had  been  given  to  him  long,  long 
ago.  The  pain  of  his  grasp  became  an  ecstasy.  She  could 
have  laughed  aloud  in  a  new-born  joy,  delight.  But  all 
she  did  was  to  gaze  up  at  him  as  the  devotee  gazes  up- 
ward at  his  god — the  god  which  had  power  to  deal  out 
misery  or  joy  unspeakable. 

"  You — love — me !  "  she  said,  unconsciously. 

Her  voice  thrilled  through  him  and  dispelled  the  last 
remnant  of  honor  that  clung  to  him  despairingly. 

"  I  love  you  !  "  he  said.  "  You  are  just  life  to  me  !  De- 
cima,  if  you  had  not  been  as  innocent  as  a  child,  you  would 
have  known  it !  Think —  look  back  !  Do  you  remember 
nothing — have  you  seen  nothing?  Why  was  I  always 
with  you  V  Why  did  I  stay  at  Leafmore  ?  Why  did  I 
do  all — everything  you  wanted  ?  Do  men  act  like  that 
unless  they  are  in  love  ?  See  !  "  He  thrust  his  hand  in  his 
bosom,  and  dragged  out  the  ribbon  which  had  fallen  from 
her  hair.  "  I  have  worn  this  next  my  heart  day  and  night, 
sleeping  or  waking.  It  has  never  left  me.  You  had  worn 
it!" 

The  blood  rushed  to. her  face,  her  eyes  glowed  with  a 
pure  passion,  and  she  drew  still  nearer  to  him. 

His  arm  went  round  her  waist,  and  he  crushed  her 
against  his  heart,  and,  for  the  first  time — the  first  time  ! — 
his  lips  sought  hers,  and  kissed  her. 

She  did  not  shrink,  but  lay  in  his  embrace,  her  face  up- 
turned flowerlike,  to  his  kisses. 

"  You  are  the  whole  wide  world  to  me ! "  he  said, 
hoarsely.  "  Life  is  not  worth  having  without  you  !  I  can- 
not live  without  you !  I  thought  I  could  !  I  have  tried 


80  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

— but  you  see,  you  know — I  cannot !     Decima,  child,  my 
dearest,  tell  me  !     Tell  me  !     Do  you  love  me  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  him,  and  the  look  sent  a  hot  wave  over 
him.  Her  lips  parted  but  for  a  moment,  no  words  would 
come.  Then  she  said  in  a  faint  whisper  which  thrilled 
him  : 

"  I  love  you  ! " 

"  Decima ! " 

She  hid  her  face  against  his  heart  for  a  moment,  then 
she  raised  her  eyes  to  his. 

"  Yes :  I  know  now  !  How — how  stupid — how  ignorant 
I  was  !  I — I  must  have  loved  you  all  through — from  the 
very  first !  " 

He  bent  and  kissed  her  hair  passionately,  yet  reverently. 
Her  avowal  of  love  awed  him.  It  was  as  if  he  had  sud- 
denly penetrated  the  sanctum  sanctorum,  the  holy  of 
holies,  of  some  shrine.  Her  innocence  cried  aloud  to  him. 

But  his  passion  deafened  him. 

"Decima,  since  the  day  we  met  at  Leafmore,  I  have 
loved  you.  Day  by  day  that  love  has  grown  until  it  has 
become  the  master  passion  of  my  life.  I  have  struggled 
with  and  fought  against  it,  but  Fate  and  Circumstances 
have  been  too  many  for  me.  You  know  the  truth  now, 
and — and  I  am  not  sorry  !  " 

"  '  Sorry  ! '     Why  should  you  be  ?  "  she  said. 

And  love  lent  a  sweeter  music  to  her  voice,  so  that  he 
paused  and  listened  before  replying. 

"  I  am  not  sorry  !  For  us  nothing  matters — nothing  is 
of  consequence  but  our  love.  Nothing,  no  one,  shall  sep- 
arate us,  Decima !  " 

She  smiled  up  at  him,  and  IKM  band  stole  to  his  face 
with  a  womanly  touch  which  thrilled  him. 

"  Xo,"  she  said.  Then  she  started.  "  But — but  Mr. 
Mershon  ?  I  have  given  my  word — my  promise  !  " 

Her  face  grew  grave  and  fearful.  Gaunt  laughed  slow- 
ly— a  laugh  of  scorn  and  defiance. 

"  A  word  wrung  from  you — cozened  by  an  artful 
scheme!  "he  said.  "What  does  it  amount  to  ?  He — he 
bought,  bribed  you  !  Bah  !  I  buy,  bribe  you  !  I'll  do  all  be 
offered."  He  laughed  and  pressed  her  to  him.  "  And  I 
buy  with  love,  love!  ]\Iy  child,  do  you  know  now  what 
you  were  about  to  do  V  To  marry  a  man  you  did  not  love  !  " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  81 

"  Yes !  "  she  said.  And  a  shudder  shook  her,  so  that 
she  clung  tighter  to  him.  "I  know  now!  Oh!  how 
could  I  ?  " 

"  Mow  could  you  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  desperate, 
reckless  laugh.  "  But  that  is  all  over,  finished  with,  dearest. 
It  is  I  whom  you  love !  Are  you  glad,  Decima  ?  Tell 
me  ! " 

She  drew  a  long  breath.  He  was  smoothing  the  ten- 
drils of  her  soft  hair  from  her  forehead,  was  looking  into 
her  eyes  with  the  hungry,  craving  look  of  love. 

"  I  am  glad  !  "  he  said.  "  And  you  shall  never  regret 
it,  dearest — never !  While  I  live  I  will  spend  every  hour 
in  making  you  happy.  You  believe  that — you  trust  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  "  she  breathed.  "  But,  think  !  Am  I  fit  to  be 
your  Avife  " 

The  word  fell  like  a  bolt  from  the  blue.  His  wife  !  His 
face  went  white.  But  she  went  on,  all  innocently : 

"  You — you  are  so — so  far  above  me.  I  am  only  Decima 
Deane  " — 

He  laughed  as  he  thrust  the  grewsome  specter  of  his 
past,  of  his  bonds,  away  from  him. 

"  You  are,  yes,  Decima  Deane — the  girl  I  love — the  one 
woman  in  the  world  to  me.'  Oh,  my  darling,  my  darling ! " 
His  voice  broke.  "  Decima,  tell  me  :  Am  I  awake  or  dream- 
ing ?  " 

She  raised  her  head  from  the  pillow  of  his  breast,  and 
kissed  him  on  the  lips. 

"  Awake  !  "  she  breathed. 

He  returned  the  kiss  fourfold. 

"  Listen,  dearest !  "  he  said.  "  To-night  we  will  start 
for — for — anywhere  !  It  does  not  matter  where — 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  smile  at  first ;  then  with 
as  taint  a  questioning. 

"Start?     Why?" 

He  met  her  inquiring  eyes  ;  then  looked  aside. 

"We  must  go  away  together,"  he  said,  hoarsely. 
"  There— there  will  be  some  fuss  and — and  stir.  We — 
will  go  to — yes,  to  Egypt,  to  Cairo !  " 

"  Shall  we  be  married  there  ?  "  she  asked,  her  innocent 
eyes  on  his  face. 

"  Married  ?  "  The  word  echoed  on  his  lips  hoarsely. 
"  What — what  does  it  matter  ?  " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

The  word  again  reminded  him  of  his  bondage,  of  the 
fact  that  he  was  married  already.  lie  thrust  the  remem- 
brance from  him  once  more.  He  would  not  remember  it ! 

"  You  can  trust  me,  dearest !  "  he  said. 

"  Trust  you?  "she  repeated  after  him,  with  a 'slight 
knitting  of  her  brows.  "What  do  you  mean?  I  don't 
understand." 

"  See  here,  dearest,"  he  said,  his  eyes  falling  before  the 
innocent  directness  of  hers,  "there  are  circumstances — 
It  may  be  necessary  that —  Would  you  come  with  me? 
Does  it  matter — whether  we  are  married  or  n. 

With  all  her  ignorance  and  innocence  of  the  world  and 
life's  miserable  mystery,  Decima  knew  something  of  the 
sac-redness,  the  necessity^  of  the  marriage  tie. 

"I — I  don't  understand — it  is  very  stupid  of  me  !  "  she 
faltered. 

lie  turned  white  and  bit  his  lip. 

"  Suppose — I  asked  you  to  come  with  me  without  being 
married?"  he  said,  desperately.  "Suppose  there  was 
some  reason  why — why — we  could  not  be  married  like — 
like  other  persons?  Would  you  risk — dare  all;  would 
you  trust  me,  and — come  with  n 

She  looked  at  him  with  no  fear  in  her  eyes — nothing 
but  a  faint  surprise. 

"I  would  go  anywhere  with  you,''  she  said;  "I  could 
not  refuse !  "  She  drew  a  long  breath,  and  smiled  up  at  him. 
"  And  why  should  I  not?  If  we  cannot  be  married,  we 
can  be  friends — just  as  we  have  been  at  Leaf  more.  I  was 
very  happy  there — ah,  very  happy  !  And  I  should 
you  every  day  should  I  not  ?  Perhaps  Bobby  could  go 
with  us?  But  I  suppose  not.  He  could  not  leave  his 
work,  could  he,  even  for  a  time  ?  " 

Before  her  absolute  innocence  Gaunt  quailed. 

lie  bit  his  lips  and  for  the  first  time  his  eyes  fell  before 
her  pure  gaze. 

'•Come — come  and  sit  down !"  he  said,  huskily.  lie 
drew  her  to  the  big  chair,  but  she  signed  to  him  to  sit, 
and  sinking  on  to  the  thick  rug  at  his  iVet,  she  leaned  her 
arm  on  his  knee,  and  her  head  on  her  arm.  Gaunt  stroked 
her  hair  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  stared  at  the  fire. 
Conscience  stung  and  lashed  him,  but  its  sting,  its  whip, 
fell  upon  a  heart  made  insensible  by  passion.  If,  he 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  83 

argued  to  himself,  lie  did  not  take  her  away  she  would 
marry  Mershon ;  he  knew  the  pressure  which  would  be 
brought  to  bear,  knew  that  she  would  not  be  able  to 
withstand  it.  She  would  marry  a  man  she  did  not  love ; 
and  from  such  a  hell,  such  a  life  in  death,  surely  Gaunt, 
the  man  she  loved,  ought  to  snatch  her  at  any  cost !  The 
happiness,  the  misery  of  her  life  hung  in  the  balance. 

After  all,  would  the  wrong  be  very  great  ?  He  could 
take  her  away  to  some  land  where  she  would  not  be  likely 
to  meet  any  English  people ;  they  could  hide  themselves 
under  an  assumed  name ;  no  breath  of  shame  or  reproach 
should  touch  her.  He  would  watch  over  her  happiness 
every  hour  of  his  life.  And  she  should  be  happy. 

And — and,  perhaps  Fate  would  fake  pity  on  them  and 
kill  that  other  woman,  his  wife  !  Then  he  would,  marry 
Decima,  and — and  all  would  be  well. 

One  knows  what  an  admirable  advocate  the  devil  ca'i 
be ;  and  now  he  was  pleading  with  Gaunt,  not  only  for 
Gaunt,  himself,  but  for  the  girl  he  love."!..  He  could  not 
let  her  go. 

"  Decima,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  sounded  so  labored 
that  she  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  him  with  some  ap- 
prehension in  her  eyes,  "I — I  want  you  to  understand. 
We  must  go — if  we  go — alone ;  we  could  not  take  Bobby 
with  us.  Child,  the  world — everybody — will  blame  me 
for  taking  you." 

"  It  would  be  wrong  !  "  she  said,  thoughtfully. 

"  It  would  be  wrong,"  he  said,  as  if  the  admission  were 
wrung  from  him.  "  That  is,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world ; 
but — but  I  am  not  so  sure — I  feel  that,  even  if  it  be 
wrong,  it  would  be  a  greater  sin  to  let  you  go  back  to — 
to — him." 

She  shuddered. 

"  I  could  not  go  back,"  she  said,  gravely.  "  Not  now, 
— not  now,  when  I  know  " — She  paused,  then  went  on,  with 
a  sweet  abandon — "  that  I  love  you  !  " 

He  bent  his  head  until  his  lips  touched  her  hair.  Then 
he  rose,  and,  taking  her  in  his  arms,  put  her  in  the  chair. 

"  Let  me  think ! "  he  said.  He  began  to  pace  the  room, 
and  walked  to  and  fro  with  quick  steps.  His  blood  was 
at  fever  heat,  and  something  beat  at  the  back  of  his  brain 


84  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

like  the  crash  of  a  wave  against  a  rock.  Now  and  again 
he  stopped  and  aimlessly  took  up  some  article  from  the 
table  and  looked  at  it  mechanically.  One  of  the  things 
was  a  quaint  Persian  dagger,  in  an  exquisitely  enameled 
sheath.  He  drew  the  blade,  looked  at  it  without  seeing 
it,  then  replaced  it.  As  he  did  so,  the  thing  fell  from  his 
fingers.  As  he  picked  it  up  and  poised  it  on  the  table 
Decima  looked  around. 

"  Why  are  you  so  troubled  ?  "  she  said  in  a  low  voice, 
full  of  loving  sympathy. 

He  came  to  her,  and  kneeling  beside  her  took  her  hands 
and  pressed  them  against  his  heart. 

cc  Decima,  you  must  leave  yourself,  your  fate,  in  my 
hands.  You  must  trust  to  me.  If  I  let  you  go  now,  it- 
it  must  be  forever !  I  shall  never  see  you  again— 

She  uttered  a  faint  cry  and  stooping  looked  into  his 
face  with  terror  and  grief  in  her  eyes,  on  her  lips. 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  breathed,  "  I — I  could  not  bear  it ! " 

"  You  see  !  "  he  said.  "  And  if  you  could  not,  how  then 
eould  I,  whose  love  for  you  is  a  thousand  times  greater 
than  your  love  for  me !  Dearest,  I  must  take  you  with 
me  to-morrow.  ^Ve  will  have  to  say  good-by  to  the  past ; 
we  will  have  to  begin  a  new  life  in  a  strange  place — 
among  strange  people.  "Will  you  come?" 

A  great  solemnity  fell  upon  her. 

"I  must  come!"  she  said,  and  the  low,  swrrt  voice 
thrilled  through  him.  "I  must  do  whatever  you  ask  me. 
I — I  could  not  let  you  go  away  from  me,  ami  see  you  no 
more.  I — I  think — I  hope  I  should  die  if  you  did." 

He  almost  laughed. 

"  That  settles  it ! "  he  said,  with  a  kind  of  reckless,  des- 
perate gayety.  "  Now,  see,  dearest,  you  must  go  back  to 
Lady  Pauline's — it  is  too  late  to  start  to-night.  To-mor- 
row morning — at  eight  o'clock — is  that  too  early  ?  " 

She  smiled  at  the  triviality  of  the  question.  "What 
hour  could  be  too  early  ?  what  did  it  matter  ? 

""Well,  then,  you  must  leave  the  house  and  take  a  cab 
to  Charing  Cross  Station." 

"To  Charing  Cross  Station  ?"  she  repeated,  carefully. 

"  Yes  ;  I  will  meet  you  there — I  shall  be  watching  for 
you.  And  then — well,  the  rest  remains  with  me  ! " 

She  leaned  back  and  looked  at  him  with  perfect  trust 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  85 

and  confidence,  as  a  woman  looks  when  she  has  placed  her 
life  in  the  hands  of  the  man  she  loves. 

"  And  when  shall  we  be  married  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Will 
it  be  soon — or  shall  we  have  to  wait  a  long  time  ?  " 

His  face  quivered. 

"  It — it  may  not  be  for  a  long  time,"  he  said,  trying  to 
speak  calmly.  "  Until  then  we  shall  have  to  live  away — 
away  from  everybody.  You  will  not  even  be  able  to 
write " 

A  troubled,  perplexed  expression  shone  in  her  eyes  as 
they  rested  on  his.  She  thought,  with  a  pang  of  pain  and 
remorse,  of  her  father. 

"  Why  ?  Because  it  will  be  wrong  to — to  go  away 
with  you.  Yes,  I  think  I  understand ' 

But  he  knew  that  she  did  not — fully.  He  was  silent  a 
moment,  then  he  said  in  a  constrained  voice  : 

"  You  do  not  ask  me  why  I  cannot  marry  you  now, 
Decima  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  am  waiting  until  you  choose  to  tell 
me." 

"  I  will  tell  you — some  day,"  he  said,  thickly.  ~"  Prom- 
ise me  that — that  when  I  do,  you  will  not  turn  from  me, 
Decima !  Promise  me  that — that  when  you  know  you  will 
still  love  me " 

"  I  promise  ! "  she  said.  "  How  could  I  turn  from  you  ? 
How  could  I  cease  to  love  you  ?  I  shall  always  love  you 
while  life  lasts.  I  couldn't  do  otherwise,  if  I  tried — what- 
ever happened.  Even  if — if  you  did  not  love  me  — 

"  Hush ! "  he  broke  in,  almost  solemnly.  "  That  is 
impossible  !  If  you  knew 

He  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  must  go,  dearest,"  he  said.  "  Heavens  J 
What  it  costs  me  to  let  you  go — to  part  with  you  even  for 
a  few  hours ! " 

She  rose,  her  hands  resting  on  his  shoulders,  and  he 
kissed  her  dress  as  it  touched  him. 

"  It  will  not  be  for  long  ! "  she  said,  with  a  happy  little 
sigh.  "  I  shall  not  sleep,  I  know.  I  shall  lie  awake  and 
try  and  realize  what  has  happened  to  me.  It  still  seems 
like  a  dream " 

"  May  you  never  awake  from  it,  dearest !  "  he  murmured. 

She  laughed  softly. 


86  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  I  wonder  where  Bobby  is  ?  I  should  like  to  have  seen 
him — to  have  told  him — but  I  am  not  to  tell  him !  I 
forgot !  " 

"  Xo,"  he  said.     "  You  must  tell  no  one  !  " 

"  "My  things  are  in  his  room,"  she  said.  "  I  will  go  and 
get  them ' 

As  she  spoke  she  looked  up  and  down  the  mantel  as  if 
she  were  searching  for  something. 

"I  put  a  long  pin — a  hatpin  there,"  she  said. 

Mechanically  he  searched  also,  pushing  aside  the  curios 
and  ornaments.  In  doing  so  he  took  up  the  portrait,  ly- 
ing face  downward,  and  was  putting  it  down  again  when, 
as  mechanically  he  glanced  at  it. 

He  did  not  start,  uttered  no  cry,  but  he  stood  stock 
still  and  stared  at  the  bewitching  face  in  the  silver  frame 
as  if  he  had  suddenly  fallen  under  a  spell.  Gradually  a 
deadly  pallor  spread  over  his  face,  his  eyes  became  dis- 
tended. 

"  \Vho — what ! "  broke  from  his  set  lips. 

Decima  had  found  the  pin,  and  had  turned  to  leave  the 
room.  She  came  back  to  him  and  looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"  That  portrait  ?     Whose  is  it?."  she  asked. 

She  had  not  seen  his  face. 

His  senses  seemed  to  be  deserting-  him ;  he  could  not 
remove  his  eyes  from  the  face  which,  with  its  "  beauty  of 
the  devil,"  seemed  to  smile  up  at  him  mockingly,  derisive- 
ly. His  silence  smote  her,  and  she  looked  at  him.  A  low 
cry  broke  from  her  lips. 

"  What — what  is  the  matter  ? "  she  murmured. 
"  What — is  it  ?  I — I  found  it — saw  it.  Whose  portrait 
is  it  ?  " 

Though  he  tried  to  crush  the  answer  down,  it  would 
come,  as  if  he  had  lost  control  of  his  voice. 

"It  is  my  wife!"  he  said,  as  a  man  speaks  in  his 
sleep. 

She  shrank  back  from  him' as  if  he  had  struck  her. 

«  Your— wife  ?  " 

The  words  were  scarcely  audible,  and  yet  to  him  they 
seemed  to  ring  through  the  room. 

He  still  gazed  at  the  face.  How  had  it  come  there? 
What  juggling  fiend  had  conjured  the  thing  up  to  confront 
him  with  it  at  this  moment — the  moment  of  his  life  ? 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  C? 

"Your — wife?"  Decima  repeated. 

And  she  shrank  a  step  farther  away  from  him. 

"  My  wife  !  "  he  said,  hoarsely,  still  staring  at  it. 

Then  he  lifted  his  eyes  heavily,  slowly  and  looked  at 
her — looked  and  realized  that  he  had  spoken  aloud — that 
he  had  told  her. 

With  an  oath,  he  flung  the  picture  into  the  fireplace. 
It  fell  with  a  crash  as  the  glass  and  frame  were  shattered 
on  the  tiles ;  then  he  stretched  out  his  hands  toward 
her. 

"  Yes,  my  wife  !  Decima,  you  know  now  why  I  can- 
not marry  you  !  I  am  married  already  !  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  She  put  up  her  hands  to  her  ears  as  if  to 
shut  out  the  words. 

"  It  is  true  !  "  he  said,  hoarsely,  with  a  calm  more  terri- 
ble than  any  violence.  "  I  am  married  to — that  woman 
whose  portrait  lies  there.  That  is  why  I  cannot  marry 
you.  Listen — for  God's  sake,  don't  shrink  from  me ! " 
for  as  he  had  taken  a  step  toward  her,  she  had  drawn 
back  with  a  gesture  of  denial. 

"  Your  wife  !  Then — then  it  is  not  I  whom  you  love 
— you  cannot !  It  is  she  !  " 

"  Love'  her ! "  lie  laughed  with  fierce  bitterness. 
"  You  don't  know  what  you  say  !  Love  !  I  hate — loathe 
her !  " 

A  cry  broke  from  her  lips. 

"  But  she  is  your  wife  !  " 

He  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  How  could  he  tell  her 
— make  her  understand  ? 

"  Decima,  she  is  my  wife,  but  I  hate  her !  No  man 
with  a  spark  of  manhood  could  do  otherwise.  Child, 
listen — don't  shrink  from  me  !  Don't — don't  look  so,  or 
I  shall  go  mad  !  She  is  a  bad,  worthless  woman — I  left 
her — I  have  not  seen  her  for  years ;  she  is  nothing  to  me 
— nothing,  nothing  !  Don't  you  understand  ?  But  that 
she  is  my  wife,  I  should  have  told  you  of  my  love  long, 
long  ago.  Ah,  that  you  understand !  Come  to  me ! 
Child,  have  pity  !  " 

He  knelt  to  her,  and  drew  her  hands  from  her  face. 
She  yielded,  or,  rather,  she  did  not  resist,  but  her  eyes 
were  fixed  vacantly  above  his  head,  as  if  she  were  trying 
to  understand — and  to  bear — the  truth. 


HER   HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Decima,  now  that  you  know,  you  will  not  turn  from 
me " 

"  Your  wife !  "     She  drew  one  hand  from  his  grasp  and 
pressed  it  against  her  forehead  with  a  piteous  little 
ture  of  helplessness  and  despair.     "Oh,  why— why  did 
you  not  tell  me  ?     Your  wife  !  " 

"  My  God,  don't— don't  repeat  it !  "  he  cried.    "  Try try 

and  forget  it !  Decima,  you— you  will  not  desert  iiu- ;  you 
will  not  draw  back  !  I  cannot  live  without  you!  If  you 
turn  from  me " 

He  rose  and  caught  her  in  his  arms,  for  she  had  swayed 
to  and  fro,  as  if  she  were  about  to  fall.  But  his  touch 
seemed  to  give  her  strength  to  resist  him,  and  after  a 
moment — a  moment  during  which  he  looked  into  her  eyes 
— she  recovered  from  the  terrible  faintness  and  drew  her- 
self from  his  arms. 

'•Let— let  me  go— all,  let  me  go!"  she  panted.  « I 
will  go  !  I  want  to  go !  Your  wife  !  " 

"  You  shall  not  go  until  you  have  heard  me,"  he  said, 
fiercely.  "Child,  you  don't  understand,  or  you  would 
not  torture  me.  Sit  down  !  " 

••  No,  no  !  " 

'•  Ah  !  but  you  must !     You  must  listen  !     Decima  !  " 

She  stood,  her  hands  clasped  tightly,  her  face  upraised, 
her  eyes  fixed  on  vacancy,  and  her  despair  almost  drove 
him  mad. 

^"Decima,"  he  began  again  ;  then  suddenly  he  stopped. 
There  was  a  sound  in  the  corridor.  A  voice — a  woman's 
voice — said  in  clear,  metallic  toin 

"  Thanks,  don't  trouble  !  I  know  the  way.  I  will  go 
in  and  wait  until  he  comes  in." 

At  the  sound  of  the  voice  Gaunt  started  and  looked 
over  his  shoulder  as  if  his  senses  were  playing  some 
fiendish  trick  on  him.  Decima  heard  the  Voice,  the 
AM  irds,  but  she  did  not  move. 

"  God  !     It  is  she !  "  broke  from  his  white  lips. 

He  caught  Decima's  arm,  but  stood  as  if  paralyzed  for  a 
moment,  then  he  said,  in  a  hoarse  whisper  : 

"  Go — that  room  !  "  and,  dashing  open  the  door,  half 
led,  half  dragged  her  into  the  adjoining  room.  Then  he 
closed  the  door,  .and  stood  with  his  back  to  it  and — 
waited ! 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  89 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

IT  was  a  long  arm  of  coincidence,  guided  by  Morgan 
Thorpe's  cunning,  which  had  led  Laura  to  Prince's  Man- 
sions that  night  of  all  nights. 

Three  days  before  there  had  been  a  little  dinner  at 
Cardigan  Terrace.  It  was  like  all  the  other  dinners,  per- 
fect of  menu  and  cozy  in  character,  and  as  usual  Trevor 
and  Bobby  were  the  only  guests. 

Now,  Bobby  had  come  back  from  Leafmore  with  a 
good  resolution.  He  would  see  no  more  of  Morgan  Thorpe 
and  Laura,  for,  alas !  it  was  as  "  Laura  "  he  habitually 
thought  of  her,  and  not  seldom  addressed  her;  so  far 
had  poor  Bobby  gone  !  Bobby  made  this  resolve  firmly, 
and  he  meant  to  stick  to  it.  But  the  morning  after  his 
resolve,  lo  and  behold,  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe,  arrayed  in 
faultless  attire,  entered  Gaunt's  rooms  and  greeted  Bobby 
as  if  he  were  a  long  lost  brother  suddenly  returned. 

"  My  dear  boy  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Where  have  you 
been  ?  I  called  the  other  night,  and  was  filled  with 
alarm  when  they  told  me  that  you  had  left  London.  I 
feared  that  you  had  fled  from  us  for  good."  Which, 
though  he  did  not  intend  it,  was  a  particularly  accurate 
way  of  putting  it.  « I  was  quite  cut  up,  I  assure  you,  and  as 
to  Laura  " — he  paused  and  smiled  at  Bobby — "  well,  per- 
haps I'd  better  not  say  how  my  news  affected  her. 
Mustn't  tell  tales  out  of  school,  eh,  Deane  ?  " 

He  leaned  forward  and  touched  Bobby  on  the  knee, 
and  Bobby  grew  red  and  hot. 

"  I — I  had  a  wire  from  home  and  had  to  run  down 
suddenly." 

Morgan  Thorpe  glanced  at  him  sharply. 

"  Xo  bad  news,  I  trust  ?  "  he  said. 

"  No  ! "  replied  Bobby,  after  a  moment's  hesitation. 
*'  At  least — well,  something  had  gone  wrong — some  busi- 
ness ;  but  it's  all  right  now." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it !  I  was  afraid  one  of  your  people 
was  ill,"  said  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  with  charming  sym- 
pathy. "  And  I'm  glad  you  are  back.  We  missed  you, 
my  dear  Deane,  though  you  were  away  for  so  short  a 


90  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

time.  Trevor  came  and  dined  with  us;  but —  "Well, 
Trevor  is  a  deuced  good  fellow,  but  he  didn't  compensate 
us  for  your  absence.  I  never  saw  Laura  so  triste  and 
dull !  You  really  must  come  round  soon !  What  do  you 
say  to  dining  with  us  to-morrow  night  V  " 

Bobby's  good  resolution  rose  and  looked  at  him  sternly, 
and  still  more  red  and  uncomfortable,  he  stammered  an 
excuse. 

"Engaged!  I'm  sorry,  and  I'm  sure  Laura  will  be. 
"Well,  we'll  hope  for  another  night." 

Bobby  then  declared  that  for  the  future  he  had  decided  to 
renounce  card  playing  ;  and  Morgan  Thorpe,  with  shrewd 
tact  commended  him  for  his  resolution  and  said  that 
Laura  had  urged  him  to  use  his  influence  to  that  end. 

The  young  man  was  grateful  for  this  mark  of  friend- 
ship on  the  part  of  Laura,  and  his  regard  for  her  was  en- 
hanced. 

"  To  Laura  that  will  be  the  best  news  that  I  can  bring 
to  her — that  you  have  decided  to  cut  card  playing,"  re- 
marked Thorpe.  "  But  you'll  come  and  see  her,  won't 
you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bobby,  stifling  a  sigh  as  his  good  resolu- 
tion went  up  the  chimney  with  a  moan  of  reproach  and 
farewell. 

«  That's  all  right.     So  long !  " 

Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  paused  at  the  door  and  looked 
around. 

"  Delightful  rooms  these  of  yours  !  Always  strike  me 
whenever  I  come  into  them.  Lord— what  is  his  name? 
— still  at  that  place  in  the  country  ?  " 

"  No,''  said  Bobby.     "  He  has  gone." 

Morgan  Thorpe  stopped,  with  his  hand  on  the  handle 
of  the  door. 

"  Gone,  eh  ?     Where  ?     Gone  for  good  ?  " 

Bobby  shook  his  head  rather  sadly.  "I  don't  know. 
He  left  Leafmore  suddenly,  and  no  one  knows  his  where- 
abouts. I'm  half  inclined  to  think  he  has  gone  to  Africa." 

"To  Africa  '? ''  A  faint  expression  of  relief  shot  for  a 
moment  into  Morgan  Thorpe's  frank  blue  eyes.  "Really ! 
Well,  he  might  go  to  a  worse  place.  He'll  escape  the 
coming  winter. v 

With  another  nod  and  smile,  he  took  his  departure. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  91 

The  expression  of  relief  grew  more  open  as  he  walked 
away.  For  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  had  had  an  anxious  time 
of  it  while  in  London.  He  had  bargained  with  Gaunt  to 
keep  his  wife  out  of  England  ;  but  Morgan  Thorpe,  while 
making  the  bargain,  had  forgotten  that  his  sister  possessed 
that  extremely  inconvenient  thing — a  will  of  her  own. 

And  the  divine  Laura  had  not  only  declined  to  remain 
at  Vevey  or  remove  to  Paris,  but  had  insisted  upon  going 
to  London.  He  had  not  dared  to  oppose  her,  for  she 
Avould  have  grown  suspicious.  And  when  the  divine 
Laura  was  .suspicious —  Well,  Morgan  Thorpe's  life  was 
not  an  i-asy  one. 

So  he  had  been  obliged  to  let  her  come,  and  had  spent 
some  part  of  his  days  in  fear  and  trembling  lest  he  should 
run  up  against  Gaunt,  and  so,  in  a  moment,  lose  his  an- 
nuity. 

But  chance  had  favored  him  hitherto,  and  Gaunt  had 
not  seen  Laura. 

"  Gone  to  Africa  ?  "  he  mused,  as  he  walked  club  wards, 
with  his  pleasant  smile  on  his  pleasant,  open  face,  as  he 
smoked  a  choice  Havana.  "Well,  he  may  have  gone, 
and  my  luck  may  still  be  with  me  ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  may  not  and  may  turn  up  at  any  moment.  My 
dear  Laura,  you  will  have  to  clear  out !  Yes,  I  shall  have 
to  move  you  !  But  how  ?  "  He  pondered  for  a  time ; 
then  he  smiled.  "  If  we  are  going  we  may  as  well  make 
a  little  coup  before  we  start.  I'll  talk  it  over  with  her. 
Her  brain's  better  than  mine  at  that  sort  of  thing." 

In  which  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  scarcely  did  himself  jus- 
tice ;  for  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find  a  sharper  or 
more  astute  scoundrel  than  himself,  even  in  London, 
where  sharp  and  astute  scoundrels  abound  and  flourish. 

Three  days  afterwards  Bobby  received  a  dainty  little 
note,  emitting  the  peculiar  scent,  from  Mrs.  Dalton. 

Why  did  he  not  come  to  see  her  ?  Had  she  offended 
him  ?  If  so,  why  did  he  not  tell  her  what  she  had  said  or 
done  amiss  ?  And  would  he  come  to  dinner  on  Monday 
and  give  her  an  opportunity  of  explaining  and  begging 
his  pardon? 

So  ran  the  note,  prettily  worded  and  written  in  a  thin 
Italian  hand. 

There   was  only  one  answer  possible.     Bobby  wrote, 


92  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

and  said  that  he  would  come  and  tell  her  that  in  no  way 
had  she  offended  him,  and  that  she  had  always  been  all 
that  was  kind  and  gracious. 

And  he  went.  She  was  alone  when  he  entered  the 
drawing-room,  and  she  received  him  with  a  half-sad,  half- 
reproachful  air.  She  was  beautifully  dressed,  and  had 
"  made-up  "  a  little  pale  ;  her  black  eyes,  which  as  she  had 
heard  his  voice  outside,  had  shone  with  contempt  and 
boredom — now  beamed  upon  him  softly,  almost  tenderly. 

"I  thought  you  were  never  coming,  that  I— we — should 
never  see  you  again !  "  she  murmured.  "  Come  and  sib 
beside  me  and  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  She  touched 
a  chair  near  the  fire  and  beside  her  own ;  and  Bobby- 
dropped  into  it  feeling  as  if  he  had  been  the  crnelest  and 
most  hard-hearted  of  young  men. 

"  Morgan  has  told  me  that  you  are  going  to  give  up 
cards  !  I  am  so  glad,"  she  said,  after  Bobby  had  assured 
her  that  there  was  nothing  the  matter,  and  that  he  had 
not  been  able  to  come  because  he  had  been  "busy." 

"  Oh,  pray,  pray  keep  to  that !  I  have  seen  so  much 
misery  through  gambling  ;  and  I  do  hate  it  so  !  Besi< ; 
she  added  with  an  air  of  innocence  which  would  have  done 
credit  to  a  first-class  actress,  "  you  will  be  able  to  sit  and 
talk  to  me  while  they  are  playing;  for  of  course,  M  r. 
Morgan  and  Mr.  Trevor  will  play."  • 

And  in  this  way  she  talked  to  him,  singing  conscience 
to  rest,  and  the  beautiful  bewitching  face  blotted  out  all 
remembrance  of  his  resolve  not  to  see  her  again. 

Then  Trevor  came  in. 

He  scowled  at  Bobby  as  he  nodded  to  him. 

"  Thought  you  had  gone  into  the  country  or  abroad," 
he  said,  sullenly.  "Deuced  cold!''  He  gave  a  little 
shudder  as  he  drew  nearer  the  lire.  His  face  was  pale 
and  his  eyelids  were  swollen,  and  inflamed.  It  struck 
Bobby  that  Trevor  had  been  drinking  heavily,  and  Laura 
shot  a  glance  at  him  as  lie  stood  gazing  at  the  lire 
moodily. 

Presently  Morgan  Thorpe  came  in. 

"My  dearDeane — Trevor — forgive  me!  I'm  late  !  "  he 
said,  with  his  charming  smile.  "  Trevor,  how  well  and 
fit  you  look  !  - 

Trevor  glowered  at  him  sullenly. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  93 

«  Do  I  ?  Then  my  looks  belie  me,  for  I  feel  anything 
but  fit.  It's  this  beastly  cold  weather  coming  in  so.  sud- 
denly." 

"  Your  dinner  will  put  you  right ! "  said  Morgan 
Thorpe,  brightly.  "  And  there's  the  bell !  " 

As  Laura  rose,  Trevor  bent  over  her. 

"  Let  that  cub  go  first  to-night,"  he  said.  "  I'll  stay 
after  him,  I  want  to  speak  to  you ! " 

She  made  a  motion  of  assent  and  smiled  up  at  him — 
sweetly,  confidingly. 

Thorpe  was  in  the  best  and  brightest  of  humors,  and 
once  or  twice  Bobby  thought  what  that  resolution  would 
have  cost  him  if  he  had  stuck  to  it.  They  were  such 
pleasant  people,  the  Thorpes ;  and  Laura — was  an  angel. 

Trevor  drank  a  great  deal — as  usual — through  his 
dinner ;  and  Thorpe  plied  him  with  "  the  earl's  wine  "  as- 
siduously ;  and  after  a  time,  his  face  got  flushed  and  the 
somber  fire  burned  in  his  eyes. 

They  went  into  the  drawing-room  where,  as  usual, 
Laura  was  playing  so  softly  on  the  piano,  and  Bobby  went 
and  sat  down  beside  her  and  turned  over  the  music. 
Morgan  Thorpe  opened  out  the  card  table. 

"  Do  you  play  to-night,  Deane  ?  "  he  asked. 

Bobby  shook  his  head. 

"  Xot  to-night,"  he  said,  reddening.  Laura's  left  hand 
stole  out  toward  him,  encouragingly,  sympathetically. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  demanded  Trevor,  looking  across  at  him 
with  surprise. 

"  Can't  afford  it,"  said  Bobby,  with  a  touch  of  his  old 
spirit. 

Trevor  sneered. 

"That's  a  reason  no  one  can  meet,"  he  said,  with  a 
sneer.  "  Go  on,  Thorpe." 

Bobby  flushed  still  more  hotly  ;  but  the  small  hand 
sought  and  found  and  pressed  his.  The  play  went  on ; 
Bobby  remained  beside  the  piano,  or  sat  on  a  chair  close 
—very  close — beside  Laura's,  near  the  fire.  They  talked 
in  a  low  voice,  which,  low  though  it  was,  seemed  to  annoy 
and  irritate  Trevor,  and  once  he  turned  toward  them 
fiercely  and  demanded  : 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  two  whispering  and  mum- 
bling about?" 


94  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE, 

Laura  laughed  softly. 

"  Mr.  Deane  is  telling  me  about  his  coach,  his  crammer. 
He  must  l>e  such  a  funny  man !  Are  you  winning  or  los- 
ing, Mr.  Trevor  ?  The  former,  I  hope.  Why  don't  you 
give  up  cards  and  come  and  sit  around  the  fire,  like  good 
31  r.  Deane  and  me?" 

He  swore  under  his  breath. 

"  Losing,"  he  said. 

She  turned  to  the  fire  again,  and  the  play  went  on. 
Half  an  hour  later  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  said  affection- 
ately : 

"  Laura,  my  dear,  will  you  give  us  a  little  champagne  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SHE  rose  an."  got  a  bottle.  Bobby  opened  it,  and  she 
filled  the  glasses  of  the  players.  Then  she  leaned  over 
Trevor's  cards,  just  dealt,  and  touched  them  with  the 
slim  taper  finger  of  her  left  hand ;  with  her  right  she 
smoothed  the  soft  dark  hair  from  her  forehead. 

Trevor  looked  up  at  her,  and  caught  her  hand,  held  it 
for  a  moment,  then  pressed,  it  to  his  lips.  Bobby  saw  the 
action,  but  Morgan  Thorpe  did  not,  or  appeared  not  to 
see  it.  She  pouted,  withdrew  her  hand  away  slowly,  and 
went  back  to  her  place.  A  moment  later  Trevor  flung 
down  his  cards. 

"  Lost !  "  he  said.     "  Was  it  double  or  quits  ?  " 

"  It  was,"  replied  Morgan  Thorpe.  "  Lucky  I  played 
that  king,  Trevor." 

"  Yes."  snarled  Trevor.  "  It  was  almost  as  if  you  knew 
I  held  the  queen."' 

Thorpe  laughed. 

"Wasn't  it?  A  mere  fluke  on  my  part- — a  rare  piece 
of  luck ! " 

Trevor  pushed  some  bank-notes  across  the  table,  drank 
a  draught  of  champagne,  and  rose  suddenly,  very  nearly 
upsetting  the  table. 

"  I'm  done  for  to-night,"  he  said  roughly. 

He  went  towards  the  fire,  and  stood  glowering  at  it,  his 
hands  thrust  in  his  pockets. 

"  And  so  you  don't  play,  eh,  Deane  ?  "  he  said,  looking 
down  at  Bobby  with  a  sneer. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  95 

"  Xo,"  said  Bobby,  "  I've  chucked  it  !  As  I  said,  I  can't 
afford  it ! " 

"  By  Heaven !  it  would  have  been  well  for  me  if  I'd 
come  to  that  decision  years  ago,"  said  Trevor,  with  a 
harsh  laugh. 

Bobby  rose. 

"  I  must  be  going,"  he  said.  "  Are  you  coming,  Tre- 
vor ?  " 

"  Xo,"  replied  Trevor,  curtly. 

Bobby  said  good-night — "  You  will  come  again  soon  ?  " 
Laura  murmured,  as  she  pressed  his  hand — and  he  left. 

Trevor  stood  staring  at  the  fire  for  a  few  minutes  ; 
then  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  Morgan  Thorpe,  who 
was  lighting  a  cigarette. 

"  Thorpe — I  want  to  speak  to  your  sister,"  he  said. 

Morgan  Thorpe  looked  over  his  cigarette,  and  raised 
his  brows. 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  Trevor !  "  he  said  pleasantly.  "  I 
efface  myself  instanter  !  " 

When  the  door  had  closed  upon  him,  Trevor  looked 
down  at  the  woman  sitting  over  the  fire.  His  eyes  were 
bloodshot ;  they,  and  his  red  hair,  accentuating  the  pallor 
of  his  face. 

"  Laura,  I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  he  said.  "  I'm  sick 
of  this." 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  a  faint  smile. 

"  It's  about  played  out  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  he 
went  on  in  a  strained  voice.  "  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer, 
and,  d — n  it,  what's  more,  I  won't ! " 

"  Why  use  such  language — what  is  the  matter  ?  "  she 
murmured. 

"  Xever  mind  my  language  "  he  retorted  ;  "  it  expresses 
my  feelings !  Laura,  you  know  I  love  you ;  you  know 
that  I  have  loved  you — bah !  what's  the  use  of  saying  it  ? 
You  know  it  all !  Will  you  be  my  wife  '?  I  want  your 
answer.  I'm  sick  of  this  game,  sick  of  seeing  you  flirting 
with  that— that  d — d  boy !  If  you  care  for  me  enough 
to  be  my  wife,  say  so.  I  can't,  and  I  won't,  wait  any 
longer." 

His  eyes  shone  redly,  his  lips  were  set,  and  dry,  and 
his  voice  rasped  huskily.  For  a  moment  the  woman  was 
daunted.  She  had  played  this  man  as  an  angler  plays  n 


96  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

trout — now  tightening,  now  loosening  the  line.  And 
now  that  he  had  come  to  the  surface,  lo !  it  was  not  a 
harmless  trout,  but  a  shark,  a  dragon,  with  gleaming 
teeth — a  thing  almost  to  be  feared.  She  turned  pale 
under  the  powder,  but  she  smiled  tenderly  as  she  mur- 
mured : 

"  You  know  I  care  for  you — Ralph  ! '' 

"Do  I?  "  he  said.  «  But  do  I 't  I'm  not  so  sure  that 
I  do !  Sometimes  I  have  half  an  idea  that  you — you  have 
been  fooling  me,  that — 

The  words  were  broken  by  his  clinched  teeth.  His 
face  grew  red.  Then,  suddenly,  his  mood  changed,  and 
he  flung  himself  on  his  knees  beside  her,  and  gripped  her 
hands.  "  Laura,  for  heaven's  sake,  tell  me  the  truth  !  If 
you  love  me,  be  my  wife — at  once — at  once!  I  cannot,  I 
will  not,  wait  any  longer.  I  am  half  mad  with  love  for 
you !  I  am  drifting  to  the  devil,  while  you — you  keep  me 
shilly-shallying !  You  know  that — you  know  that  I  am 
on  the  road  to  ruin  !  Marry  me  and  save  me — if  you 
love  me  !  If  you  do  not,  then — then — I  will  go !  Oh, 
Laura !  have  pity  on  me  ! " 

His  upturned  face  was  distorted  by  his  passion,  and 
suddenly  his  head  fell  until  his  face  was  hidden  in  her 
lap — his  hands  gripping  her  dress. 

There  was  something  terrible  in  his  self-abandonment, 
terrible  and  pitiable,  and  most  women  would  have  been 
both  terrified  and  pitying.  But  this  woman  had  no  heart, 
and  was  incapable  of  pity.  The  touch  of  fear  which  had 
;iled  her  passed  away  as  he  surrendered  himself  to  his 
passion,  and  loathing  and  contempt  took  its  place. 

She  looked  down,  with  a  mmte  of  contempt,  at  the 
bowed,  red  head,  at  the  clinched  hands,  upon  which  the. 
veins  stood  out  in  thick  cords;  but  her  voice  was  exqui- 
sitely tender  and  loving  as  she  whispeivd  : 

"  You  know  I  love  you,  Ralph,  and— and  I  will  marry 
you  if  you  wish  it ;  if  you  think  it  wise  to  trust  your  life 
to  mine,  so  full  of  sorrows  of  the  past." 

He  raised  his  head,  his  face  transfigured  by  relief — joy, 
and  putting  his  arm  round  her,  he  drew  her  down  to 
him. 

"  Laura,  my  own  !  "  he  cried,  hoarsely. 

She  suffered  the  embrace  for  a  moment ;  she  even  put 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  £7 

lier  lips  to  his  hot  forehead,  then  she  slipped  from  his 
arms  and  rose. 

"  Go  now,  Ralph,"  she  said,  caressing  his  hand,  "  you — 
you  almost  frighten  me  !  " 

"  Forgive  me,  dearest,  forgive  me  !  If  you  knew  how 
I  love  you 

"  Perhaps  I  do !  "  She  smiled  sweetly  at  him,  and  let 
her  head  rest  on  his  breast  for  a  moment.  "  But  Ralph, 
we — we  must  not  be  rash.  You  will  wait " 

His  face  darkened  instantly. 

"  Wait !     Why  should  we  ?  "  he  began. 

"  Foolish  boy  !  I  do  not  mean  for  long ;  for — for  a 
month." 

k-  A  fortnight ! "  he  said,  eagerly.     "  Three  weeks  then ! " 

She  made  a  gesture  of  assent. 

'•  (io  now,  dearest !  " 

She  had  to  endure  his  parting  embrace  with  a  tender, 
smiling"  affectation  of  returning  it ;  but  what  it  cost  her 
AVUS  expressed  by  the  cry  of  disgust  which  broke  from  her 
iips  almost  before  he  was  out  of  hearing. 

Morgan  Thorpe,  coming  in,  found  her  crouching  over 
the  fire,  and  wiping  her  lips,  her  arms,  which  his  lips  had 
touched,  with  her  handkerchief  as  if  to  free  them  from 
some  stain. 

"  Bah  ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  gesture  of  loathing. 
"  Why  did  you  not  come  in  sooner  and  save  me  from 
that— that  savage  ?  " 

«  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked.     "  Has  Trevor " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  between  her  teeth.  "  He  has  been 
making  love — has  asked  me  to  be  his  wife — "  she  gave  a 
low  laugh  of  derision — "and  insisted  upon  an  answer!  " 

"  And  what  did  you  say  '? "  he  asked. 

She  laughed  again. 

«  Yes !  " 

He  started. 

"  Great  Heaven !     Couldn't  you  have " 

"  Xo  I  couldn't !  "  she  broke  in,  with  something  like  a 
snarl.  She  did  not  look  very  beautiful  at  that  moment. 
"  I  could  not  put  him  off.  I  was — yes — afraid.  He  be- 
haved like  a  madman.  Look  at  my  hair  !  I  hate  all  men 
• — you  are  all  brutes  !  " 

Morgan  Thorpe  watched  her  with  a  cunning  intentness. 


98  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  This  is  indeed  serious  ! ''  he  said  again.  "  Look  here, 
Laura,  this  chap  isn't  like  most  of  the  others — he's  a 
nasty  one  to  tackle.  We  shall  have  to  make  a  bolt  for  it." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  indifferently. 

"  Yes ;  we  must  fold  up  our  tents,  like  the  Arabs  and 
silently  steal  away,"  he  said.  "  It's  lucky  he  didn't  break 
out  before." 

"Yes;  I  suppose  you've  plucked  him  pretty  well  by 
this  time?"  she  said,  callously. 

Morgan  Thorpe  nodded  quite  as  callously. 

"  Pretty  near,"  he  assented.  "  And  come  to  think  of  it, 
it's  as  well  that  we  should  make  a  move.  The  other  boy 
lias  grown  shy,  and  there's  no  more  to  be  made  out  of 
him." 

She  yawned  with  profound  indifference. 

"  lie's  not  so  bad  as  the  others,"  she  said.  "He's  only 
a  fool — Trevor  is  a  brute  and  a  savage  as  well." 

"  All  the  more  reason  for  giving  him  the  slip,"  said 
Morgan  Thorpe.  "  We  could  clear  out  in  a  few  days.  By 
a  stroke  of  luck  I  have  not  paid  the  last  quarter's  rent." 
He  poured  out  some  wine  and  took  it  to  her,  and  she 
drank  it  at  a  draught,  and  he  followed  her  example.  "  I'm 
not  so  sure  that  the  other  boy,  Deane,  is  quite  exhausted," 
he  said,  musingly.  "  Look  here,  Laura,  here's  an  idea  !  " 
He  came  over  to  the  fire  and  leaned  against  the  mantel, 
looking  down  at  her.  "  He  won't  play  any  more,  I'm  cer- 
tain of  that ;  but  couldn't  we  run  a  grand  coup  V  How 
would  it  be  if  you  were  to  work  him  for  a  biggish  sum, 
say  a  couple  of  hundred  pounds;'" 

She  yawned. 

'•  How?* 

'•  It's  easy  enough ;  you  can  do  anything  with  him." 

'•I'm  not  so  sure,"  she  said,  reflectively.  -He's  not 
such  a  fool  as  you  think  him,  and  I  fancy  he  is  getting  a 
trifle  suspicious.  I  saw  him  look  at  me  curiously  when  I 
was  making  the  sign  behind  Trevor  to-night." 

"  Oh  !  Then  it's  time  we  wound  up  these  operations. 
But,  look  here,  I'll  show  you  the  way  to  draw  that  couple 
of  hundred,  my  dear  girl.  You  go  to  his  rooms  one 
night :  Woman  in  great  distress ;  tearful  '  make-up,' 
with  dark  rings  round  the  eyes.  You've  come  to  him— 
risking  compromising  yourself,  and  all  that — because 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  99 

you  are  in  great  trouble.  Threatened  with  ruin  unless 
you  can  obtain  a  couple  of  hundred  pounds.  Have  come 
to  him  because  he  is  the  closest,  truest  friend  you  have. 
See !  He  can  save  you  by  just  putting  his  hand  to  a  little 
bill.  You  may  not  want  to  use  it ;  will  in  all  probability 
return  it  to  him  in  the  morning ;  but  in  any  case  it  will 
save  you  from  ruin  and  despair.  See  ?  " 

He  rolled  off  the  nefarious  scheme  fluently,  and  she 
listened,  with  her  head  on  one  side,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
fire.  Then  she  laughed. 

"  I  dare  say  I  could  manage  that,"  she  said. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  with  a  laugh.  "  The  boy's  in  love 
with  you.  You  take  him  unawares,  give  him  no  time  to 
think  ;  you  can  promise  him  anything — seeing  that  we  can 
start  in  the  morning." 

She  yawned.  There  was  no  compunction  in  her  na- 
ture, no  sense  of  shame.  She  had  been  an  adventuress 
all  her  life  and  a  successful  one — simply  because  of  that 
absence  of  compunction  and  shame. 

-"  Very  well,"  she  said.  "  Oh  yes ;  I  can  do  it  easily 
enough.  But,  mind,  I  take  that  two  hundred,  Morgan  ! " 

His  face  fell. 

u  My  dear  Laura  !     Think  of  my  expenses  !  "    • 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  glint  of  anger  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  take  that  two  hundred,"  she  repeated,  emphatically. 
"  You  have  plenty  of  money ;  I  know  that,  and  I've  won- 
dered sometimes  where  you  get  it.  You  have  had  more 
than  you  got  from  Trevor  and  Deaiie." 

He  changed  color,  and  she  laughed,  contemptuously. 
"  Don't  trouble  to  lie,"  she  said,  coolly  ;  "  I  shouldn't  be- 
lieve you.  And  I  don't  care  how  you  get  it.  All  I  know 
is  that  I  mean  to  have  this  haul.  And  do  you  know  how 
I  am  going  to  spend  it  ?  " 

"  Another  diamond  bracelet?  My  dear,  you  might  get 
it  on  credit " 

"  Xo ;  I'm  going  to  spend  it  on  detectives.  I  am  going 
to  find  out  that  husband  of  mine." 

Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  smiled  a  sickly  smile. 

"  Yes  ! "  she  said  with  sudden  fury.  "  I  mean  to  find 
him.  You've  tried — or  pretended  to — and  have  failed. 
I'm  going  to  try  and  I  mean  to  succeed  ! " 

"  My  dear,  why  be  angry  with  me  ?     I  hope  you  will 


100  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

succeed ;  though  why  you  should  want  him,  seeing  that 
you  hate  him  like  poison — 

"  Yes,  you're  right.  I  hate  him  like  poison  ;  and  that's 
why  I  want  him  !  I'm  going  to  make  life  a  hell  for  him !  " 
She  rose  and  stood  looking  before  her  with  eyes  which 
blazed  with  a  malignant  fire ;  her  lips  were  parted  show- 
ing her  white,  even  teeth ;  her  powder  showed  almost 
yellow  against  her  white  face;  her  small  hands  were 
clinched  tightly  at  her  side. 

Morgan  Thorpe  looked  at  her  with  a  mixture  of  fear 
and  admiration. 

"  Upon  my  soul,  Laura !  I  don't  envy  him  if  you  do 
find  him  !  "  he  said.,  with  an  uneasy  laugh. 

She  drew  a  long  breath. 

"You'd  have  no  cause  to!"  she  said,  significantly,  as 
she  moved  toward  the  door.  "  Tell  me  when  you  want 
me  to  get  that  money.  Good-night." 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  began  his  prep- 
arations for  a  sudden  and  secret  flight.  Such  prepara- 
tions with  gentlemen  of  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe's  ehara< 
are  beautifully  simple.  They  consist  in  getting  as  many 
articles  on  credit  as  confiding  and  trustful  tradesmen  will 
supply.  He  bought  a  nice  stock  of  clothes,  some  choice 
cigars,  a  few — but  they  were  costly — articles  of  jewelry  ; 
he  borrowed  as  many  five-pound  notes  as  he  could  from 
men  with  whom  lie  had  scraped  acquaintance.  It  was 
— "By  Jove,  I've  left  my  purse  at  home!  My  dear  fel- 
low, will  you  lend  me  a  few  pounds  for  to-night  !  ''  And, 
at  last,  when  the  landlord  of  31  Cardigan  Terrace,  wrote 
demanding  the  rent  by  return  of  post,  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe 
informed  his  sister,  that  everything  was  ready  for  the 
exodus,  and  that  she  might  ring  off  her  grand  coup  against 
that  young  fool,  Deane. 

She  went  up  to  her  room  after  dinner,  and  locked  the 
door,  and  in  about  an  hour  she  came  down  and  presented 
herself  for  approval,  as  it  were. 

Morgan  Thorpe  looked  at  her  as  she  stood  before  him 
and  uttered  an  exclamation  of  admiration.  She  was  pale, 
there  were  dark  rings  round  her  eyes  ;  but  her  expression 
was  the  highest  achievement.  She  looked  hunted,  ha- 
rassed, full  of  despair. 

"  By  Heaven !  you  ought  to  have  gone  on  the  stage, 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  101 

Laura  !  "  he  said  fervently.  "  You  ought  indeed  !  Why, 
you'd  melt  a  heart  of  stone  Avith  that  face  and  that  look  ! 
Really,  I  think  I  should  try  for  three  instead  of  two 
hundred ! " 

She  laughed,  the  heartless,  callous  laugh  of  the  adven- 
turess. 

"  Too  high  a  sum  would  frighten  my  bahy,"  she  said. 
"  Call  a  cab  for  me,  Morgan.  Here — give  me  a  glass  of 
champagne  before  I  go." 

He  gave  it  to  her,  still  eying  her  with  admiration. 

"  Perfect  actress  !  "  he  murmured,  ecstatically. 

She  laughed  and  nodded  exultingly. 

"  Oh  !  I  shall  play  the  part  all  right.  It's  easy  enough 
with  such  an  innocent  child  as  he  is !  " 

"  If  Trevor  comes,  I'll  have  him  told  that  you're  in  bed 
with  a  headache." 

She  arrested  the  second  glass  on  its  way  to  her  lips  and 
exclaimed : 

"Thank  Heaven,  I  shall  escape  from  him!  He  was 
here  yesterday,  and — Well,  that  was  a  hard  part  to  play. 
It  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  keep  from  screaming 
out ;  "  I  hate  you — hate  you !  Take  your  hands  off 
me ! ' ' 

Morgan  Thorpe  laughed. 

"  By  this  time  to-morrow  you  will  have  put  a  good 
many  miles  between  you  and  that  too  ardent  lover  of 
yours,  my  dear,"  he  said. 

He  called  a  cab,  and  closely  veiled  she  entered  and  was 
driven  off. 

As  she  passed  from  the  house  to  the  cab  Trevor  came 
round  the  corner.  He  saw  her,  and  recognized  her,  and 
he  stood  still  for  a  moment  with  astonishment.  Then  he 
went  on  to  the  house,  and  knocked. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Dalton  at  home  ? "  he  asked,  as  coolly  as  he 
could. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  French  maid,  blandly.  "  But 
madam  is  confined  to  her  room  with  a  bad  headache." 

She  saw  him  wince  and  start,  saw  the  blood  leave  his 
face  slowly. 

"  I'm  sorry  !  "  he  said,  curtly.  "  Tell  her — But  never 
mind.  Good-night,  Marie." 

He  went  down  the  steps  and  walked  a   few   paces. 


102  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Then  he  ran.     The  cab  was  still  in  sight.     At  the  end  of 
the  street  he  hailed  and  jumped  into  a  hansom. 

"  Follow  that  cab  !  "  he  said.  "  Keep  out  of  sight  if 
you  can.  Follow  it,  and  mind  you  don't  lose  sight  of  it !  " 

He  crushed  an  oath  between  his  teeth. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  -          * 

(Taunt  stood  with  his  back  to  the  door,  which  he  had 
closed  on  Decima,  and  waited.  He  heard  the  frou-frou 
of  a  woman's  dress,  the  other  door'  opened,  there  came 
the  faint  perfume  which  he  remembered  so  well — and 
loathed  so  bitterly — and  the  woman,  his  wife,  entered. 

The  lamp  was  low,  and  shaded  by  a  deep  crimson 
shade ;  the  firelight  flickered.  In  the  faint  light  she  did 
not  in  the  first  moment  or  two  of  her  entrance  see  him. 
She  moved  to  the  fire,  carefully  threw  back  the  hood  of 
her  fur  cape,  and  held  out  her  hands  to  the  fire,  and  he, 
motionless  and  in  silence,  watched  her. 

He  had  once  loved,  or  persuaded  himself  that  he  had 
loved  this  Avoman.  He  could  have  laughed  aloud  with 
bitter  self-scorn  and  mockery. 

She  warmed  her  hands  daintily,  glanced  at  the  clock, 
ya  \vned,  put  up  her  hands  to  smooth  the  hair  which  the 
hood  had  ruffled,  then  turned  and  looked  round  the  room, 
and  saw  him. 

For  a  moment  she  did  not  recognize  him,  and  uttered 
a  faint  cry  of  surprise.  Then,  with  a  shriller,  though 
strangely  repressed,  cry,  she  moved  toward  him,  her  head 
projected,  her  eyes  fixed  on  him.  She  looked  as  slit- 
moved  like  an  exquisitely  beautiful  snake.  She  was 
within  a  couple  of  paces  before  the  words  : 

"It  is  you!''  broke  fromjier  parted  lips. 

Gaunt,  white  and  rigid,  made  a  gesture  of  assent. 

"Yes,"  he  said.     "  Why  are  you  her 

She  drew  a  long  breath, as  if  she  were  choking;  then 
she  came  nearer  and  stared  at  him  as  she  broke  into  a 
laugh — a  laugh  of  triumph,  of  derision. 

'•It  is  you?"  she  repeated.  "You — my  husband! 
Wrll — my  God!  it's  too  good  to  be  true!  You — you 
hi- iv  !  How  did  you  come?  Why " 

Sin-  looked  round  the  room  as  if  amazed  and  perplexed, 
and  then  back  at  him.  Her  beautiful  face  flushed  beneath 
the  paint,  her  eyes  shone  like  stars  within  the  artistically 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  103 

drawn  shadows.  It  was  the  face  of  a  mask  suddenly, 
hideously,  endued  with  life. 

"  This  is  my  home — my  rooms,"  he  said. 

His  own  voice  seemed  to  him  as  if  it  belonged  to  some 
one  speaking  at  a  great  distance. 

"  Your — your  rooms  ?  "  she  repeated,  dully.  Then  her 
eyes  glittered,  and  she  laughed.  "  Yours  ?  Then — then 
— you  are  Lord  Gaunt  ?  " 

"  I  am  Lord  Gaunt — yes,"  he  said,  as  dully  and  mechan- 
ically as  before. 

She  put  her  hand  to  her  forehead,  and  then  to  her 
throat,  as  if  the  thoughts  that  were  crowding  on  her 
were  suffocating  her. 

"  You — y<  iu  are  Lord  Gaunt '?  These  rooms  are  yours  ? 
You  are  a  nobleman — a  swell — and  my  husband  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  in  exactly  the  same  lifeless  tone  ;  "  I 
am  your  husband." 

Siie  leaned  against  the  back  of  a  chair  and  breathed 
heavily  ;  then  she  laughed. 

"  I  have  found  you — found  you  at  last  !  And  you  are 
Lord  Gaunt !  And  I  am — yes,  I  must  be,  of  (••nurse,  Lady 
Gaunt !  Lady  Gaunt !  My  God !  this  was  worth  living 
for ! " 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"  IT  is  worth  living  for ! "  she  repeated,  with  a  choking 
laugh.  "  To  think  of  it !  "  She  snatched  up  a  book  from 
the  small  table  near  her  and  dashed  her  hand  on  the  in- 
side of  the  cover  which  bore  his  bookplate,  with  its  coat- 
of-arms  above  his  name  and  title.  "  To  think  that  I 
knew  you  were  the  owner  here,  that  I've  seen  your  name, 
in  all  these  books,  and  never  knew,  never  guessed  ! " 

She  paused,  breathless  with  excitement  and  triumph, 
Her  voice,  usually  so  musical,  was  thick  and  vulgar ;  the 
vulgarity  of  a  common  nature  was  bursting  through  the 
thin  coating  of  veneer,  and  she  was  at  that  moment,  for 
all  her  beauty  and  grace,  a  virago  of  the  worst  type  as 
she  confronted  him. 

Gaunt  stood  quite  still,  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  with  the 
calmness  of  despair,  the  impassivity  of  disgust. 


104  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

-  Why  did  you  leave  me  ?  "  she  demanded,  stridently. 
"Why  did  you  do  it?" 

-  Can  you  ask  ?  "  he  said  very  quietly.     "Do  you  think 
it  was  possible  for  me  to  remain  with  you  when  I  dis- 
covered— what  you   were,  what   and   who  it  was  I  had 
married  ?  " 

The  reply  infuriated  her.  She  took  a  step  toward  him, 
and  stared  into  his  face  with  the  passion  of  hate  burning 
in  her  black  eyes. 

"  You  deserted  me  ! " 

"I  left  you,  yes,"  he  said,  as  calmly  as  before.  "  But 
deserted — in  the  strict,  the  legal,  sense — no.  I  provided 
for  you " 

••  A  beggarly  allowance  !  You  married  me  in  a  false 
name ! " 

"Xo,"  he  said  again,  with  a  touch  of  weariness  in  his 
voice.  "  Edward  Barnard,  are  two  of  my  names.  I  con- 
cealed my  family  name  and  title  ;  yes,  that  is  true.  I 
must  have  had  some  presentiment  of — what  you  w 

She  flung  her  arms  out. 

"  The  law  will  reach  you  !   punish  you  !  "  she  hissed. 

He  made  a  slight  gesture  of  indifference. 

"  You  cannot  get  rid  of  me,"  she  exclaimed,  with  an  air 
of  triumph.  "  You  cannot  divorce  me — you  would  if  you 
could ! " 

'•  Xo ! "  he  said,  in  exactly  the  same  tone.  It  was  as  if 
he  were  confronting  her  passion  with  the  calmness  of 
despair,  the  indifference  of  the  rock  to  the  howling  wave 
which  beats  against  it  in  vain.  "Do  what  you  will,  I 
should  not  seek  for  a  divorce.  I  am  content  to  suffer 
anything  rather  than  bring  shame  and  disgrace  upon  the 
name  I  bear." 

"You  can  bring  no  charge  against  me  !  "  she  said,  de- 
fiantly. 

He  made  a  gesture  of  assent. 

"  I  am  glad,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  left  you  because 
I  discovered  what  you  were  before  I  married  you—  Be 
silent  a  moment ! "  for  she  had  opened  her  lips  as  if  about 
to  protest — retort.  "Put  yourself  in  my  place.  I  loved 
you,  deeming  you  all  that  a  girl  should  be,  all  that  a 
woman  should  be,  who  takes  the  name  of  an  honest  man. 
I  found —  Ah  !  why  should  I  tell  you  ?  You  know  ! "' 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  105 

She  flung  herself  into  a  chair,  and  leaning  her  face  on 
her  hand,  looked  up  at  him  with  a  mixture  of  defiance 
and  hatred. 

'•  What  else  could  I  do  but  leave  you  ? "  he  said. 
*'  What  other  course  was  open  to  a  man  of  honor  when 
he  had  discovered  that  he  had  married — an  adventuress 
of  the  worst,  the  vilest,  type.  God  knows  I  loved 
you " 

She  laughed  discordantly. 

"  Not  you  !  "  she  retorted. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  as  calmly  as  before ;  "  I  loved  you. 
Why  else  should  I  have  married  you?  I  should  have 
loved  you  to  the  end,  while  life  lasted,  if  I  had  not 
learned  what  you  had  been.  Even  then  I  would  have 
fought  against  that  terrible  knowledge,  and — and  re- 
mained with  you,  if  I  had  not  learned  also  that  you  were 
without  a  heart,  that  you  had  married  me  for  a  place  in 
the  world,  for  money " 

He  paused  and  looked  gravely  at  her.  All  the  while 
he  had  been  talking  to  her,  looking  at  her,  he  had  been 
thinking  of  Decima ;  had  been  contrasting  this  woman, 
his  wife,  the  adventuress,  with  her  vile  past,  contrasting 
her  with  the  pure-minded  girl  who  had  just  left  him.  It 
was  as  if  an  angel  of  light  had  flown  from  his  side,  and  a 
fiend  in  woman's  shape  had  taken  her  place.  His  heart 
felt  numbed  with  the  misery  of  despair,  with  the  utter 
hopelessness  of  the  situation. 

It  was  as  if  he  had  been  suddenly  awakened  from  an  ex- 
quisite dream  of  bliss  to  find  that  his  hours  were  numbered, 
or,  worse  still,  that  the  rest  of  his  days  were  to  be  spent 
in  a  darkness  and  anguish  beyond  words  to  describe. 

His  hand  touched  the  key  of  the  door  behind  him  and 
half  mechanically  he  locked  it,  and  moved  to  the  fireplace 
and  looked  at  her  again. 

"I  am  sorry  that  you  have  compelled  me  to  say  all 
this,"  he  said,  with  a  courtesy  more  galling  than  any 
vituperation,  any  reproach,  would  have  been.  "Will 
you  tell  me  what,  having  found  me,  you  intend  to  do  ?  I 
suppose  you  and  your  brother  have  made  some  plans." 

She  raised  her  eyes  suddenly. 

"  Did  Morgan  know  who  you  were — that  you  lived 
here  ?  "  she  demanded. 


106  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Gaunt  looked  faintly  surprised. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  Was  it  not  he  who  betrayed 
me  ?  It  would  be  like  him,  worthy  of  him.  I  did  not 
bribe  him  heavily  enough,  I  supp< 

"  You — you  bribed  him  ?  Then  he  knew  all  the  time, 
and  kept  it  from  me  !  Kept  it  from  me  all  the  while  he 
was  pretending  to  look  for  you !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Gaum,  indifferently  ;  for  what  did  it  matter 
now  ?  "I  bribed  him,  as  you  put  it.  I  paid  him  to 
keep  the  secret  of  my  identity.  He  discovered  it " 

She  sprang  to  her  feet. 

44  You  are  a  pretty  pair!  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  hard 
laugh,  'fr  So  he  has  been  taking  money  to — to  help  rob 
me  of  my  rights  !  Oh,  I'll  be  even  with  him  !  " 

"I  have  do  doubt  you  will,"  said  Gaunt,  wearily. 
"  But  may  I  ask  you  to  answer  my  question  ?  What  do 
you  intend  to  do  ?  " 

'•  What  am  I  going  to  do  ?  "  she  said,  mockingly,  taunt- 
ingly. "  Can  you  ask  ?  I  am  going  to  have  my  rights  ! 
I  am  going  to  live  with  you 

He  made  a  slight  gesture  of  dissent. 

"  You  cannot  do  that,"  he  said,  gravely.  "  I  could  not 
live  with  you ! " 

"You  can't  help  it!"  she  said,  jeeringly.  "The  law 
is  on  my  side,  and  it  shall  help  me !  I'll  go  to  law !  I 
will  go  to  a  solicitor  directly  I  leave  here !  He  shall 
claim  my  right  to  have  your  name — my  proper  title — 
Lady  Gaunt." 

'•  I  cannot  withhold  that  from  you,"  he  said,  with  perfect 
calm . 

'•  Xo,  and  I  mean  to  hold  you,  too !  "  she  said,  defiantly, 
gloatingly.  "  Where  a  husband  is,  there  a  wife  has  a 
right  to  be.  You  can't  cast  me  off,  and  you  shall  not ! 
I'll  have  my  title,  and — and  half  your  money " 

"  Ah,  yes,"  he  said,  almost  to  himself. 

"  Yes,  and  I'll  go  into  the  world,  the  society  my  rank 
is  entitled  to  ;  and  I'll  go  as  your  wife — by  your  side. 
You  shall  take  me  and  introduce  me  to  all  your  relations 
and  friends.'' 

He  smiled  bitterly,  coolly,  and  the  smile  seemed  to 
madden  her. 

"  You  refuse  ?  "  she  said. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  107 

*  I  refuse,  yes,"  he  said,  grimly.  "  You  may  have  all 
else  you  demand.  The  title,  the  money — far  more  than 
half  of  that  which  belongs  to  me — but  no  more.  I  could 
not  face  the  world  by  your  side 

She  laughed  stridently. 

"  Could  you  not?  We  will  see!  The  law  will  help 
me  !  I  will  enter  an  action — compel  you,  yes,  compel 
you,  to  acknowledge  me,  and  live  with  me/' 

"  You  cannot,"  he  said,  as  if  he  were  stating  a  simple 
fact.  "  I  leave  England  in  a  few  hours  ;  I  shall  be  be- 
yond the  reach  of  even  your  malice !  " 

She  sprang  from  the  chair,  upsetting  it  in  her  violence, 
and  it  fell  against  the  small  table,  overturning  it.  It 
came  to  the  ground  with  a  crash,  and  the  bric-a-brac  was 
strewn  upon  the  floor.  As  she  rose  to  her  feet  she  ut- 
tered a  cry,  a  cry  like  that  of  a-  wild  beast  balked  of  its 
revenge. 

Gaunt  looked  at  the  overturned  table  and  curios  in- 
differently. A  knock  came  to  the  door. 

"  Did  you  call,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  maid  outside. 

"  Xo,"  said  Gaunt,  and  she  went  away. 

"  Take  care  !  "  said  Laura,  hoarsely,  as  she  pushed  the 
hair  from  her  forehead.  "  You  don't  know  what  I  can 
do  !  You  talk  of  your  name — -the  disgrace  and  shame  ! 
I  can  drag  it  in  the  dust  for  you,  and,  by  Heaven  !  I 
will,  too!  I'll  tell  the  whole  story!  I'll  fill  the  papers 
with  '  Lord  and  Lady  Gaunt's  case '  ;  I'll  make  you  a 
laughing  stock  throughout  England  !  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  with  a  terrible  calmness.  "  You  can 
do  that,  and  I  have  no  doubt  you  will.  But  you  cannot 
compel  me  to  live  with  you.  And  the  world  will  under- 
stand why  I  do  not." 

Her  face  became  white,  and  she  ground  her  teeth. 

"  What  do  I  care  ?"  she  said.  "I  shall  have  had  my 
revenge.  You  won't  be  able  to  show  your  face  in  Eng- 
land again  ;  and  I — I  shall  live  here  ;  shall  be  Lady 
Gaunt,  your  wife,  your  ill-used  wife — 

He  smiled. 

".  Yes,"  he  said.  "  Let  that  thought  console  you  ;  let 
it  content  you.  I  shall  say  no  word,  utter  no  denial." 

The  calmness  of  his  acquiescence  startled  her.  She 
went  closer  to  him,  and  looked  at  him  keenly. 


108  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  You  are  going  away — out  of  England.  Are  you  go- 
ing alone,  I  wonder  ?  " 

For  the  first  time  his  calmness  broke  down.  It  was  as 
if  she  had  found  the  chink  in  his  armor  through  which 
she  could  thrust  an  envenomed  dagger.  She  saw  the 
change  in  his  expression,  and  uttered  a  cry. 

"  Ah !  you  are  not.  There  is  some  other  woman  !  "  she 
laughed,  discordantly.  "  Don't  deny  it !  I  can  see  it  in 
your  face  !  So,  that's  it !  I  can  understand  now  !  " 

She  stood  before  him,  her  face  flushed,  her  eyes 
glittering. 

"  What  a  fool  I  was  not  to  have  hit  upon  it  before ! 
There's  another  woman  ! " 

He  had  regained  his  old  calmness  and  met  her  furious, 
taunting  gaze  with  impassive  sternness.  No  man  could 
be  more  impassive,  more  stonelike,  than  Gaunt  when  he 
chose. 

"  You  don't  deny  it !  "  she  went  on,  scanning  his  face. 
"  And,  I  know  that  look  !  There  is  some  one  else  !  " 

She  came  and  stood  beside  him,  so  close  to  him  that 
the  perfume  he  hated  seemed  to  suffocate  him.  He 
caught  his  breath,  but  said  not  a  word  ;  and  his  silence 
increased  her  fury. 

"  You  talk  of  shame  and  disgrace  !  "  she  said.  "  You 
hypocrite  !  You — you  liar  !  Shame  and  disgrace,  in- 
deed !  Yes,  you  shall  have  them,  and  not  you  alone,  but 
she,,  whoever  she  is  !  I'll  find  it  all  out.  I'll  have  the 
best  detectives  money — your  money — can  buy,  and  I'll 
drag  her  through  the  divorce  court." 

He  did  not  move  a  muscle,  but  stood  regarding  her 
with  perfect  calm. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  she  demanded.  "  You  may  as  well 
tell  me.  One  of  your  great  lady  friends — a  woman  of 
rank  or  some  common  girl  ?  "  She  paused  for  breath  and 
looked  round  the  room. 

As  evil  chance  would  have  it,  her  eye  fell  upon  Deci- 
ma's  veil.  It  had  come  unfastened  from  the  side  of  her 
hat  as  Decima  had  entered,  and  she  had  taken  it  off  and 
laid  it  on  the  top  of  a  cabinet. 

Laura  sprang  to  it,  and,  seizing  it,  held  it  out  to  him. 

"Whose  is  this'? "she  demanded,  hoarsely.  "Why, 
she's  here  now — this  moment !  In  your  rooms  !  " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  109 

She  sprang  to  the  door  of  the  inner  room,  and  tore  at 
the  handle.  Then,  when  she  found  it  was  locked,  she 
turned  upon  him. 

"  She's  here — in  this  room.  Unlock  that  door  !  Un- 
lock it !  I'm  your  wife,  and  I  order  you — "  Her  voice 
broke  and  failed  chokingly.  Gaunt  watched  her — or  say, 
rather,  that  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  veil.  Remember 
how  he  loved  Decima,  how  devotedly  he  worshiped  her 
innocence  and  purity.  '  He  pictured  this  fury  dragging 
out  the  girl  he  loved  and  covering  her  with  vituperation 
and  abuse  ;  remember  this  and  bear  with  him,  for  he 
needs  all  your  charity  and  clemency. 

He  sprang  forward,  and,  seizing  her  by  the  arm,  flung 
her  on  to  the  couch. 

"  Silence  !  "  he  said,  as  he  tore  the  veil  from  her  fingers. 
"  Silence  you — you  desecrate  ! " 

He  thrust  the  veil  in  his  breast  and  stood  over  her, 
panting  and  struggling  for  the  mastery  of  his  passion. 
"  Do  what  you  will,"  he  said  at  last,  when  he  had  re- 
gained something  like  cairn.  "  Do  all  you  have  threat- 
ened. But — but  go  now;  leave  me  !  It  is  not  safe  !  " 

His  voice  rose  at  the  last  words  ;  they  could  have  been 
heard  plainly  by  anyone  who  happened  to  be  in  the  cor- 
ridor. 

She  leaned  back,  rubbing  the  arm  he  had  gripped. 

"  Go  !  go  !  "  she  retorted,  defiantly,  tauntingly.  "  No,  I 
will  not  go  !  Why  should  I  ?  This  is  your  house,  and  I 
am.  your  wife !  My  place  is  here  !  I  shall  not  go  !  And 
you  can't  compel  me  !  I  am  your  wife,  your  wife  !  It's 
that  other  woman  who  is  hiding  here,  the  other — 

She  uttered  a  word  that  cannot  be  written,  and  as  it 
struck  his  ears  Gaunt  raised  his  hand  as  if  to  silence  the 
mocking  taunting,  lips.  Then  the  hand  fell  to  his  side, 
and  he  said,  hoarsely  : 

"  If  you  will  not  go,  I  will  !  Stay  where  you  are !  Do 
not  attempt  to  follow  me  !  I — I  cannot  answer  for  my- 
self ! " 

He  strode  to  the  door  and  unlocked  it  and  looked  at 
her  for  a  moment. 

"  Go  !  n  she  cried,  with  a  strident  laugh.  "  Go  to  her. 
I  stay.  This  place  is  mine— mine.  I  am  your  wife  !  As 


110  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

for  her — shame  and  disgrace.  You  .shall  have  enough  of 
it — both  of  you — and  to  spare,  I'll— 

Gaunt  took  up  his  hat,  passed  into  the  inner  room, 
locking  the  door  as  he  did  so.  He  looked  round  wildly. 
The  room  was  empty.  Decima  was  not  there.  His  brain 
was  in  a  whirl ;  he  scarcely  knew  where  he  was,  what  lie 
was  doing.  All  his  thoughts  were  of  Decima  ;  to  get  her 
out  of  the  place,  out  of  reach  of  the  demon  he  had  just 
left. 

He  looked  round  the  room  again. 

Her  hat  and  jacket  were  not  there.  He  went  hurriedly 
into  the  next  room — a  bath  and  dressing-room — she  was 
not  there,  nor  was  there  any  trace  of  her. 

The  room  adjoining  was  a  kind  of  "den,"  in  which  he 
kept  his  guns  and  fishing  tackle,  a  bachelor's  litter-room. 
She  was  not  there.  He  looked  round  and  drew  a  breath 
of  relief.  She  must  have  gone.  It  was  just  possible 
that  she  had  not  heard  a  word  of  what  had  passed  be- 
tween him  and  his  wife.  Oh,  God — his  wife  ! 

He  stood  for  a  moment  and  wiped  the  sweat  from  his 
forehead.  He  had  been  calm  enough  until  the  last  mo- 
ment or  two  ;  but  now  his  heart  was  beating  furiously, 
and  he  was  all  of  a  shake.  Hut  it  was  because  he  was 
thinking  of  Decima. 

He  saw  now  how  mad — how  bad — he  had  been.  He 
had  tempted  her,  persuaded  her  to  fly  with  him  :  he  had 
tempted  her  to  her  ruin.  In  a  moment,  overwhelmed 
by  his  passionate  love,  he  had  lured  her  to  her  ruin.  And 
she  would  have  come  to  his  lure  !  lie  saw  now.  as  by  a 
flash  of  lightning,  how  bad,  how  cruel,  he  had  been. 

Thank  God !  she  had  escaped!  lie  had  lost  her  for- 
ever, should  never  see  her  again  ;  but — no  matter,  she 
was  saved  !  As  for  him — what  did  it  matter  what  be- 
came of  him  ?  " 

He  sank  into  a  chair,  his  head  bowed  in  his  hands.  A 
terrible  blow  had  fallen  upon  him  ;  but  the  hand  of 
Providence  which  had  dealt  it  had,  at  the  same  time, 
been  stretched  out  to  save  her — his  dear,  sweet  girl  love! 

She  had  gone.  She  was  safe  at  Lady  Pauline's  house 
in  Berkeley  Square.  Safe  from  him  and  his  fatal  love. 

He  was  glad,  and  yet,  and  yet  the  thought  that  she  was 
lost  to  him,  that  he  should  never  hold  her  in  his  arms 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  Ill 

again,  never,  perhaps,  see  her  again,  filled  him  with  an- 
guish.  He  could  have  borne  it  all  if  he  had  not  known 
that  she  loved  him.  But  he  knew  that  she  loved  him. 
To  hear  her  sweet  confession  of  love  ringing  in  his  ears, 
to  feel  her  kisses  upon  his  lips  !  He  was  almost  mad 
with  longing  and  with  remorse. 

He  rose  presently.  It  had  seemed  hours  while  he  was 
sitting  there  ;  in  reality  it  had  only  been  minutes.  He 
rose  and  looked  round  with  the  numbed  feeling  of  a  man 
waking  from  chloroform. 

From  this  room  a  door  led  directly  on  to  the  corridor. 
It  was  always  kept  locked,  but  the  key  was  in  its  place. 
He  went  to  turn  it,  but  found  the  door  unlocked.  Then 
he  understood  ;  Decima  had  escaped — yes,  that  was  the 
word,  escaped  !  this  way. 

He  drew  the  key  from  the  lock  sharply.  It  had  been 
in  its  place  so  long  that  it  stuck,  and,  as  he  jerked  it 
violently,  it  cut  his  finger.  He  did  not  feel  the  cut,  did 
not  know  that  his  finger  was  bleeding,  until  he. saw  a 
spot  of  blood  on  the  wristband  of  his  shirt. 

With  an  impatient  gesture  he  put  the  key  in  his  pock- 
et, wiped  his  finger  on  his  handkerchief,  and  passed  into 
the  corridor,  locking  the  door  behind  him. 

As  he  went  down  the  corridor  he  heard  voices,  and  he 
saw  the  parlor  maid  leaning  beside  the  elevator,  talking 
to  the  porter  within  it. 

She  started  guiltily  at  sight  of  him,  and  as  the  man 
touched  his  hat  the  maid  fled  hastily. 

Gaunt  returned  the  salutation,  and  went  quickly,  down 
the  stairs. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE  infuriated  Avoman  tore  at  the  handle  of  the  door 
for  a  moment,  then  she  stopped.  There  had  been  some- 
thing in  Gaunt's  face,  in  his  eyes,  which  if  it  did  not 
exactly  frighten  her,-  warned  her  that  it  would  not  be 
safe  to  follow  him. 

She  left  the  door  and  paced  up  and  down  the  room  for 
a  moment  or  two. 

"  Yes,  I'll  wait.    I'll  stay  here.    It's  my  proper  place ! 


112  HER  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

I'm  his  wife.  lie  shall  find  me  here  when  he  comes  back — - 
if  he  does  come  back;  if  he  doesn't,  I'll  stay  here;  I'll 
drag  his  name  in  the  dirt :  I'll— 

She  sank  on  the  couch,  and  rocked  herself  to  and  fro. 
She  was  choking  with  passion.  But  presently  the  vio- 
lence of  the  fit  passed,  and  she  rose  and  went  to  a  mirror 
and  looked  at  her  face.  She  was  burning  hot ;  the  per- 
spiration had  played  havoc  with  her  u  make-up,"  and  the 
powder  and  colors  showed  in  streaks  upon  her  face.  She 
wiped  it  with  her  lace  handkerchief  and  smoothed  her 
hair;  then  she  looked  round  the  room  searchingly,  went 
to  the  sideboard  and,  wrenching  the  door  open,  found  what 
she  was  looking  for.  She  poured  herself  out  a  gl 
brandy,  and  drank  some  of  it  eagerly,  greedily ;  then  she 
drew  a  long  breath,  and,  seating  herself  by  the  fire,  bent 
forward,  her  chin  resting  in  one  hand,  the  glass  held  in 
the  other. 

She  emptied  the  glass  presently,  then  got  up  and  refilled 
it,  and  drank  again.  The  neat  spirit  soothed  her,  and  after 
a  minute  or  two  she  raised  her  head  and  looked  round  and 
laughed  to  herself. 

"Lady  Gaunt!"  she  muttered.  "That  sounds  nice. 
I'm  a  lady  of  rank  !  ''  She  rose  and  took  a  Court  Guide 
from  the  book-shelf,  found  the  page  and  read  aloud  the 
paragraph  headed  "Gaunt."  "He's  all  this  and  I'm  his 
wife  !  "  she  said  to  herself,  gloating  over  the  information, 
the  history  of  the  name,  the  description  of  ( Jaunt V 
dences.  "By  Heaven!  I'll  have  a  good  time!  I'll  enjoy 
myself  with  the  best  of  them  !  And  I'll  have  my  revenge, 
too  !  "  Her  white,  even  teeth  clinched  together  viciously. 
"  I'll  make  him  wish  he'd  never  been  born  !  "  She  looked 
over  her  shoulder  towards  the  door  of  the  inner  room  and 
shook  the  book  at  it  threateningly.  "And  Morgan — I'll 
be  even  with  him  ;  I'll  cast  him  off.  Not  one  penny 
shall  he  have  !  I'll  be  even  with  him  !  " 

She  rose  and  stretched  her  arms  above  her  head,  with 
a  gesture  of  relief  and  satisfaction. 

"  To  have  done  with  the  old  life !  To  be  respectable— 
some  one — a  great  lady  !  It  sounds  good — good — good  !  " 

She  laughed  and  flung  herself  on  the  couch.  The  spirit 
she  had  taken,  and  the  reaction  after  the  excitement  of 
her  fury  and  passion,  were  having  their  due  effect  upon 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  113 

her,  and  presently  her  eyes  closed,  though  she  was  not 
asleep.  That  Gaunt  was  in  love  with  another  woman, 
that  she,  Laura,  suspected  that  other  woman  to  be  in  the 
rooms,  did  not  fill  her  with  wifely  indignation.  She  only 
saw  in  the  fact  a  means  of  inflicting  fresh  misery  and 
torture  upon  him.  She  could  strike  at  him  through  this 
other  woman  ;  that  was  all  she  cared  about. 

Trevor  had  dismissed  his  cab  at  the  corner  of  the  street 
in  which  the  Mansion  stood.  He  did  not  need  to  drive 
up  to  the  door,  for  he  knew  where  Laura  was  going.  He 
got  out,  paid  the  cabman,  and  stood  staring  down  the 
street  at  the  spot  where  she  had  disappeared  as  she 
entered  the  house. 

He  was  shaking  all  over,  and  his  brain  was  whirling. 
She — she  who  had  told  him  that  she  loved  him,  had 
promised  to  be  his  wife — had  gone,  alone,  to  another 
man's  room!  The  fact  made  him  sick  and  giddy.  He 
looked  round  vacantly.  There  was  a  public  house  at  the 
corner  of  the  street  and  he  walked  across  to  it,  asked  for 
a  whisky  and  soda  and  lit  a  cigar.  The  barmaid,  as  she 
gave  him  the  drink,  noticed  his  deathly  pallor  and  the 
bloodshot  eyes,  noticed  also  that  his  hand  shook  as  he 
raised  the  glass  to  his  lips,  and  she  concluded  he  had 
been  drinking. 

"Looks  bad,  don't  he?  "  she  remarked  to  a  fellow  bar- 
maid. 

"  Yes,"  she  assented.  "  Hope  he  ain't  going  to  stop 
and  make  a  scene.  I  do  hate  a  row,  and  he'd  be  an  ugly 
customer  to  get  rid  of  quietly." 

Trevor,  though  he  stayed  some  time  and  drank  and 
smoked,  was  quiet  enough.  The  liquor  brought  no  color 
to  his  face,  though  his  eyes  grew  more  bloodshot ;  but  his 
hand  became  steadier,  and  as  he  emptied  his  third  glass 
and  went  out  he  nodded  mechanically  to  the  two  girls,  who 
had  been  watching  him  covertly.  Flinging  his  cigar  away, 
he  crossed  the  street  and  went  up  the  steps  of  the  en- 
trance to  Gaunt's  flat.  The  rooms  were  on  the  first  floor. 
As  a  rule,  the  porter  or  a  page  boy  were  in  the  lobby  ;  but 
on  this  occasion  they  were  absent  and  Trevor  went  up- 
stairs without  seeing  any  one  or  being  seen. 

At  the  door  of  Gaunt's  flat  he  paused  and  fought  for 
calmness  and  self-possession.  Then  he  put  out  his  hand 


114  HER  IIKAirrs  DESIRE. 

to  ring  the  electric  bell,  but  as  he  did  E  •  that  tha 

door  was  ajar.  In  her  sudden  flight  at  Gaunt 's  appear- 
ance the  maid  had  unwittingly  failed  to  close  the  door 
after  her. 

Trevor  smiled  grimly.     All  the  better!     He  could 
in  upon  them,  upon  the  faithless  woman  and  the  partner 
of  her  treachery,  and  confront  them. 

He  pushed  the  door  gently,  and,  passing  through  the 
corridor,  opened  the  drawing-room  door  as  gently  and  fil- 
tered. He  looked  round  the  room,  paused  for  a  moment 
in  surprise  at  its  silence,  then  saw  the  figure  lying  on  the 
couch.  He  closed  the  door  noiselessly,  turned  th 
and  stole  across  the  room  to  her. 

Cautious   though   his  movement  had  been,  she  heard 
him,  and  raising  her  head,  she  said  : 

"  Oh,  you  have  come  back,  have  you  ?     You've  thought 
better  of  it " 

Then  she  saw  who  it  was  and  broke  off  with  a  faint  cry 
of  surprise. 

"  Oh,  it's  you  ?  "  she  said,  contemptuously. 

He  stood  and  glared  down  at  her. 

"  Yes,  it's  I !  "  he  said.     "  What — what  are  you  doing 
here  ?    You  didn't  expect  me  ?  " 

His  voice  was  thick  and  harsh,  his  lips  were  strained 
tightly. 

She  regarded  him  with    cool   insolence,  and   dropped 
back,  her  face  pillowed  on  her  hand. 

"  I  certainly  did  not !  "  she  said.     "  You  followed  me,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?"  he  repeated,  as  if  his  mind 
were  absorbed  by  the  question. 

"  Followed  me,  like  the  mean  spy  you  are  ! ''  she  said. 

4-  What  are  you "  he  said  again. 

She  interrupted  him  with  a  curt  laugh. 

"  What  business  is  that  of  yours  ?  "  she  retorted. 

His  hand  clinched  at  his  side,  and  he  moistened  his  lips. 

"  You  can  ask  me  that?"  he  said,  hoarsely.      "You— 
you  can  ask  me  that !    Hut  I  don't  want  any  answer— 

"Then  why  do  you  ask  the  question  dd. 

"  There  is  no  need  to  tell  me,"  he  said.     "  You  are  here 

in  his  rooms — alone — at  night " 

,     She    shrugged   her   shoulders  and  gazed   up   at  him 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  115 

through  half-closed  lids.  The  man's  misery  and  rage 
gave  her  a  kind  of  satisfaction,  pleasure.  She  was  heart- 
less and  cruel,,  and  the  infliction  of  pain  upon  this  man, 
whom  she  hated,  came  as  a  relief  after  all  she  herself  had 
endured. 

"  It  looks  like  it,  doesn't  it  ? "  she  said.  « And  if  I 
am " 

He  put  his  hand  to  his  head. 

"  My  God ! "  he  said  to  himself,  rather  than  to  her. 
"  And  you  said  that  you  loved  me.  You  promised  to  be 
my  wife — my  wife  !  " 

She  laughed  and  stretched  herself  into  a  still  easier,  a 
more  indolently  careless,  attitude. 

"  Did  I  ?  It  was  a  mistake.  I  never  meant  it.  If  you 
hadn't  been  fool  enough  to  lose  your  head  you'd  have 
seen  that ! " 

He  looked  at  her,  as  if  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  be- 
lieve that  he  had  heard  aright. 

"  You  never "  he  gasped. 

She  smiled  up  at  him. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  if  you  mean  that  I  never  loved  you, 
you  are  quite  right.  I  certainly  never  did  !  " 

lie  struggled  for  breath. 

"  Why — why  did  you  say "  he  panted. 

She  raised  her  head  upon  her  hand  and  looked  at  him 
coldly,  contemptuously. 

"  Oh,  for  several  reasons,"  she  replied.  One,  because 
Morgan  wished  me  to  keep  you  in  tow,  another,  because — 
well,  you  were  so  mad  that  night  that  I  was  obliged  to 
humor  you." 

He  put  his  hand  to  his  throat  as  if  he  were  choking. 

"  Morgan  ?  "  he  said. 

She  nodded. 

"  Yes ;  you  may  as  well  know  the  truth.  You'd  have 
discovered  it  sooner  or  later.  You  were  useful  to  Morgan, 
you  see." 

He  did  see. 

"  He — he  has  robbed  me !  "  he  said,  hoarsely,  staring  be- 
fore him  vacantly. 

"  Well,  that's  a  coarse  way  of  putting  it ;  but  it's  your 
way  to  be  coarse.  It's  your  nature,  and  you  can't  help  it. 
If  you  mean  that  Morgan — with  my  help — always  man- 


116  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE, 

aged,  to  win,  you're  right.  Don't  blame  me.  I  was  under 
liis  thumb,  and  had  to  obey  orders.  Go  and  find  him  and 
have  it  out  with  him.  I  don't  mind,"  and  she  laughed 
heartlessly. 

"  You — you  helped  him ! "  he  said,  as  if  he  were  half 
stupefied. 

She  nodded  and  yawned. 

"  Yes ;  like  the  good  and  faithful  sister  that  I  am.  I've 
often  wondered  you  haven't  detected  us.  I've  seen  you 
look  up  when  I've  been  bending  over  you  and  making 
signs  to  him  telling  him  the  cards  you  held." 

She  laughed. 

"  My  God  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Don't  blame  me.  Go  to  Morgan  and  call  him  to  ac- 
count." 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  blame  you ;  you  were  in  his 
power,  under  his  thumb.  But  you  did  it,  knowing  all  the 
time  that  I  loved  you.  No ! "  broke  from  his  strained 
lips.  "I  won't  believe  it !  Tell  me  you  are  joking,  that 
you  are  only  saying  it  to  tease  me !  Tell  me,  Laura !  " 

He  flung  himself  on  his  knees  beside  the  couch  and 
tried  to  take  her  hand,  but  she  whipped  it  behind  her. 
He  gazed  at  her  piteously.  He  had  meant  to  confront  her, 
charge  her  with  her  faithlessness  and  treachery,  and 
leave  her  overwhelmed  by  his  scorn ;  but  the  sight 
of  her,  of  the  beautiful  face,  the  graceful  figure,  had 
dispelled  his  rage.  Even  now  that  he  had  heard  her 
confess,  boast  of,  her  duplicity  and  deceit,  of  the  fact 
that  she  had  helped  to  swindle  and  rob  him,  he  could 
not  resist  the  fascination  of  her  presence,  her  voice. 

Laura,"  he  said,  hoarsely,  "  I  can't  believe  it !  Xo 
woman — least  of  all  you — could  do  it !  See,  dear,  I  know 
you  are  joking.  You  are  saying  it  to — to  try  me  !  "  He 
laughed  discordantly.  "  Well,  I  haven't  risen  to  it  ;  you 
can't  take  me  in  !  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  unconcealed  contempt. 

"  You  must  be  mad  !  "  she  said. 

"  I  suppose  I  am,"  he  said,  helplessly.  "  I — I  came  here 
—I  followed  you  to  have  it  out  with  you,  to  break  the 
engagement,  to  cast  you  off,  but  I  can't — I  can't !  Even 
though  I  find  you  here,  in  Deane's  rooms — where  is 
he?" 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  117 

He  broke  off  with  the  abruptness  of  a  man  whose  mind 
is  in  too  great  a  whirl  to  act  consecutively. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  ;  "  I  haven't  seen  him." 

A  flash  of  hope  smote  across  his  misery. 

"  Then — then  you  did  not  come  to — to  meet  him  ?  "  he 
said,  quickly,  with  a  sharp  breath. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  did,"  she  said,  coolly. 

"  Then  it  was  by  that  scoundrel's — by  Morgan's  orders  ?  " 
he  said,  clutching  at  the  hope  that  she  had  been  forced  to> 
coine. 

She  nodded  «  Yes  !  " 

"  Thank  God  !  "  he  breathed.  "  Laura,  forgive  me — 
forgive  all  my  doubts  of  you  !  I  might  have  known  that 
—that  you  would  not  have  been  so  false  !  Forgive  me  ! 
I  love  you,  Laura  !  Come  away  with  menow — come  home. 
I  will  protect  you  from  Morgan.  We  will  be  married  at 
once !  " 

She  shrank  from  him  and  stared  with  cold  amazement, 

"  Come  with  you  ! — marry  you  !  Why,  didn't  I  just 
tell  you  that  I  didn't  care  for  you ;  that  I  only  said  what 
I  did,  promised  to  be  your  wife,  because  I  was  obliged  ? 
You  must  be  stark,  staring  mad ! " 

lie  put  his  hand  to  his  hot  brow.  Indeed,  her  confes- 
sion of  her  baseness,  her  treachery,  had  been  forgotten  for 
the  moment. 

"  Yon  didn't  mean  it,"  he  said,  with  a  ghastly  smile. 
"  You  are  only  teasing  me,  Laura !  Come  !  " 

He  rose  and  held  out  his  arms  and  bent  down  as  if  to 
lift  her  from  the  couch.  She  sat  up  and  pushed  him 
away  from  her. 

"  Go  with  you !  Marry  you !  Not  if  there  wasn't 
another  man  in  the  world  !  I  hate  you  !  " 

He  looked  at  her,  the  smile  dying  away  on  his  face,  his 
eyes  distending. 

«  You— hate  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  between  her  teeth.  "  I've  always  hated 
you  from  the  first.  Why,  what  is  there  about  you  to  take 
any  woman's  fancy  ?  Look  in  the  glass  !  "  She  laughed 
heartlessly  as  she  pointed  behind  him.  "  And  you  were 
always  a  bear  and  a  savage.  Many's  the  time  when 
you've  talked  about  your  love  and — and  touched  me  that 
I've  had  hard  work  to  keep  myself  from  crying  out  I 


118  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

And  even  Morgan  sometimes  found  it  difficult  to  stand 
you.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  your  money — and  I  suppose 
that's  gone  now,  or  most  of  it !  " 

"  Yes  ;  it's  gone,"  he  said,  dully,  mechanically.  He  felt 
and  looked  like  a  man  in  a  dream,  a  hideous  nightmare 
which  paralyzed  him. 

She  laughed. 

"  For  Heaven's  "sake,  go !  Deane  or  some  one  will  come 
in,  and  there  will  be  a  scene !  " 

He  did  not  move,  but  gazed  down  at  her  with  his  under 
lip  dropping,  his  e}~es  vacant  and  expressionless. 

"  Do  you  hear  ?  Why  don't  you  go  ?  I've  answered 
you  plainly  enough.  I've  told  you  that  I  hate  you,  and 
that  nothing  would  induce  me  to  marry  you  !  " 

"  Xothing— would — induce — you !  "  he  said  after  her. 

"  No  !  Besides —  '  She  yawned  and  stretched  out  her 
arms  and  looked  at  the  bracelets  upon  them.  "  Besides, 
if  I  were  ever  so  fond  of  you,  I  wouldn't  marry  you  !  " 

"Why  not?"  he  asked,  thickly. 

She  laughed. 

"  Because  I  happen  to  be  married  already." 

He  stared  at  her,  and  his  lips  moved.  lie  was  repeat- 
ing her  words  again,  striving  to  grasp,  to  realize,  their 
meaning.  "  Married — already  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

«  Yes ! " 

"  To— to  him  ?  " 

He  looked  round  the  room. 

She  laughed.     It  amused  her  to  mystify,  deceive  him. 

"  Yes — to  him,"  she  said. 

"  Secretly  ?  "  he  breathed. 

"  Yes,  yes,  of  course,"  she  answered,  impatiently. 

"  All — all  the  time — even  when  you  said  that  you  loved 
rne — promised  to  be  my  wife  ?  " 

She  made  a  gesture  with  her  hands,  as  if  she  were 
utterly  weary  of  his  questions,  his  presence. 

"  Yes,  yes  !  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake,  go  and  leave  me 
alone  !  What's  the  use  of  staying  and  worrying  me  ?  I 
never  want  to  see  you  again  !  " 

She  rose  and  went  past  him  toward  the  fireplace.  Her 
movement  seemed  to  break  the  spell,  to  release  him  from 
its  benumbing  influence.  With  a  low  snarl,  like  that  of 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  119 

a  wild  beast,  he  caught  her  by  the  arm  and  swung  her 
round  to  him, 

"  You — devil !  "  he  hissed. 

She  struggled  and  uttered  a  cry.  Ha  covered  her  mouth 
with  his  hand  and  forced  her  on  her  knees.  As  he  did 
so,  his  foot  struck  against  the  Persian  dagger  which  lay 
among  the  other  things  which  had  been  overturned. 

He  caught  it  up,  jerked  the  blade  from  its  sheath,  and 
raised  it  above  his  head.  His  hand  still  covered  her 
mouth,  but  if  it  had  not,  her  tongue  would  have  refused 
its  office,  for  she  was  paralyzed  with  terror.  She  fought 
and  struggled  with  him,  but  in  vain.  He  held  her  in  the 
grip  of  a  vise  ;  his  bloodshot  eyes  stared  into  hers,  his  hot 
breath  scorched  her  cheek. 

The  shining  blade  was  poised  above  his  head  for  an  in- 
stant or  two,  then  it  gleamed  downward.  There  was  a 
low,  gurgling  cry  ;  then  as  he  released  the  blade  the  body 
fell  away  from  him  in  a  ghastly  heap  upon  the  floor. 

He  knelt  beside  it,  looking  at  the  dead  face,  at  the  tiny 
stream  of  blood  which  had  already  ceased  to  run.  For  a 
moment  he  did  not  realize  what  he  had  done,  then,  with 
a  groan  and  a  shudder  that  shook  him  from  head  to  foot, 
he  bent  over  her  and  moaned  her  name. 

"  Laura  !  Laura  !  Laura  !  " 

Time  mowed  down  the  fatal  moments  with  its  relent- 
less scythe.  It  seemed  to  tick  "  Murder,  murder  ! "  as 
they  fell. 

Trevor  remained  on  his  knees,  staring  vacantly  at  the 
dead,  white  face  for  full  five  minutes,  listening  to  the 
accusing  clock.  Then  he  rose  and  staggered  backward 
to  the  fireplace,  his  eyes  still  fixed  on  the  face  as  if  they 
were  chained  there. 

Another  five  minutes  passed  before  he  realized  that  he 
w_as  in  danger.  Some  one — he,  her  husband — her  hus- 
band ! — might  come  in  at  any  moment.  He  must  fly. 

With  the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  the  mechanical 
desire  to  conceal  his  deed  even  for  a  time,  he  went  to  the 
body,  slowly,  fearful,  and,  lifting  it  carefully,  laid  it  on 
the  couch.  His  eye  caught  Gaunt's  fur  coat,  and  he  took 
it  up  and  covered  the  body  with  it.  As  he  drew  it  over 
the  beautiful  face— never  more  beautiful  than  it  was  now 
in  the  calmness,  the  placidity  of  death — he  shivered  as  if 


120  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE, 

with  cold,  and  a  low  moan  broke  from  his  livid  lips.  He 
drew  his  eyes  away  slowly,  and,  taking  up  his  hat,  went 
slowly  and  still  backward — to  the  door  and  opened  it. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  corridor.  A  servant  was  sing- 
ing in  the  servant's  room.  He  closed  the  door  softly, 
very  softly  as  if  to  avoid  awaking  the  woman  on  the 
couch,  and  passed  quickly,  and  on  tiptoe,  down  the  stairs 
and  into  the  street. 

And  it  was  not  until  he  had  reached  the  crowded 
thoroughfare  at  the  end  that  he  remembered  that  no  one 
had  seen  him  enter  the  house  or  leave  it, 


CHAPTER  XX, 

DECIMA  found  herself  standing  on  the  pavement  outside 
the  Mansions' ;  but  she  was  scarcely  conscious  of  how  she 
got  there.  She  had  put  on  her  things  mechanically, 
hurriedly,  and  had  fled  from  the  house  with  uncertain 
feet,  and  at  the  edge  of  the  larger  and  busier  thorough- 
fare stood  gazing  vacantly  before  her. 

A  passing  cab  hailed  her,  and  she  got  in.  But  she  did 
not  think  to  tell  the  man  where  she  wished  to  be  driven, 
and  he  had  to  ask  her  twice  through  the  door  in  the  roof 
before  she  could  reply.  At  Lady  Pauline's  door  she  stood 
a  moment,  looking  up  and  down  the  street  with  the  same 
expression  in  her  eyes,  for  she  was  asking  herself  whether 
it  was  really  she,  Decima  Deane,  who  was  standing  there. 

She  rang  at  last  and  the  charwoman  let  her  in.  "  Oh, 
it  is  you,  miss !  "  she  said,  garrulously.  "  I've  had  a  bit  of 
a  fire  in  your  room,  thinking  it  would  be  more  comfort- 
able. Would  you  like  to  go  up  now,  or  can  I  get  you 
anything  ?" 

"  I  will  go  up  now,"  said  Decima. 

Something  in  the  girl's  voice  rather  startled  the  woman, 
and  she  turned  and  looked  at  her. 

"  You  seem  tired,  miss  ?  "  she  said. 

"Yes,  that  is  it;  I  am  tired,"  said  Decima,  dully. 

She  went  into  the  bedroom.  A  fire  was  burning 
brightly  ;  the  woman  lit  some  candles,  and  looked  around 
tentatively. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  121 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  get  you,  miss  ?  I'm  sorry 
that  one  of  the  maids  ain't  here.  Perhaps  you'd  let  me 
take  your  boots  off  for  you  ?  " 

Decima  sank  into  a  chair  and  thanked  her,  and  the  wo- 
man took  off  the  wet  boots. 

"  Why,  miss,  you're  shivering  with  cold ! "  she  said. 
"  Shall  I  get  you  a  little  something  ?  Lor',  I  forgot  as 
everything  is  locked  up  !  But  I  could  run  round  the 
corner  and  get  you  some  brandy  or  some  port  wine." 

Decima  forced  a  mechanical  smile  to  her  white,  wan 
face. 

"  Oh,  no,  no  ;  thank  you  !  "  she  said.  "  I  shall  be  warm 
directly  ;  it  was  kind  of  you  to  make  so  nice  a  fire— and, 
good-night ! " 

When  the  door  had  closed  she  sank  back  and  shut  her 
eyes. 

What  was  it  that  had  happened  to  her  ?  Let  her  try 
and  think  !  She  had  been  so  happy — so  happy— only  an 
hour  ago — less  than  an  hour  ago  !  What  had  happened 
since  then  ? 

But  only  the  cause  of  her  happiness  came  back  to  her 
at  first.  She  remembered  that  Lord  Gaunt  had  come  in, 
that  they  had  sat  talking,  that  his  presence  had  filled  her 
with  a  kind  of  gladness  and  pleasure.  And  then — he  had 
told  her  that  he  loved  her,  and,  then,  in  a  strange,  mys- 
terious way,  a  veil  seemed  to  have  been  torn  aside  from 
lier  inner  life,  and  she  had  realized  that  she  loved  him, 
that  she  had  loved  him  for — oh,  ever  so  long — ever  so 
long ! 

The  color  stole  to  her  white  face,  her  eyes  became  suf- 
fused with  tears,  tears  of  joy  and  infinite  delight  and 
peace.  As  she  sat  there  she  could  hear  his  voice — "I 
love  you,  I  love  you ! "  it  had  said  to  her.  Oh,  wonderful, 
life-giving  words  !  She  could  see  his  face ;  it  stole  between 
her  closed  lids  and  her  eyes.  The  handsome  face  'she 
loved  so  dearly  !  She  could  feel  his  kisses  upon  her  lips, 
upon  her  hair,  and  a  thrill  ran  through  her,  and  the  touch 
of  color  grew  to  a  burning  blush. 

He  loved  her !  He  had  said  so ;  his  kisses,  his  eyes, 
had  been  even  more  eloquent,  more  convincing,  than  his 
words. 

Oh,    how  happy   she  was !      To  be  loved  by   him  I 


1:1-2  HER  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

'•  Every  thought  is  of  you  !  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart 
and  soul !  You  hold  my  heart  iu  the  hollow  of  your 
hand  !  "  What  words  they  were  !  And  they  were  true — 
true  ;  for  he  could  not  speak  falsely. 

ITow  happy  she  was !  Was  there  ever  a  girl  in  the 
world  so  blessed — so  fortunate  as  she  ?  To  be  loved  1  >y 
him!  To  know  that  his  love-  was  so  great  that  he  kept 
her  ribbon — the  poor,  little  faded  ribbon  ! — next  his 
heart,  day  and  night;  just  because  she  had  worn  it  in  her 
hair!  How — happy — happy — happy!  Then  suddenly 
the  pang  of  anguish  smote,  her.  But  what  had  happened  ? 
Why  did  this  terrible  weight,  this  dragging  fear  and 
shame,  crush  out  all  her  happiness?  Then  she  forced 
herself  to  remember,  and  as  she  recalled  the  discovery  of 
the  portrait,  his  words,  "  My  wife  ! "  and  all  that  had 
passed  afterwards,  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  covered 
them  with  her  hands,  and  a  low  cry  of  misery  broke 
from  her  white  and  trembling  lips. 

He  was  married.  Another  woman  was  his  wife  :  it 
was  not  she,  Decima,  whom  he  ought  to  love,  whom  he 
could  marry.  He  belonged  to  some  one  else.  The  beau- 
tiful woman  whose  picture  he  had  held  in  his  hands.  Oh, 
Avhat  should  she  do,  what  should  she  do?  She  leaned 
forward  and  rocked  herself  to  and  fro.  The  anguish  in 
her  heart  was  like  a  physical  pain,  racking  and  tearing  at 
her. 

She  knew  what  she  ought  to  do.  She  ought  to  cease 
loving  him  from  that  moment.  It  was  her  duty,  her 
solemn  duty,  to  tear  his  image  from  her  heart ;  to  love 
him  no  longer,  to  forget  him.  But  alas  for  poor  human 
nature  !  She  found  she  could  not  do  this.  It  is  only  the 
impossible  heroines,  in  impossible,  goody-goody  novels, 
who,  when  they  have  discovered  that  the  man  they  love 
is  unworthy  of  them,  or  married  to  another  woman,  ; 
and  nobly  crush  down  their  love  and  cast  it  from  their 
hearts. 

She  ought  to  do  it ;  but — well,  she  could  not. 

Her  face  burned  with  shame;  her  heart  grew  hot 
amidst  its  pain  as  she  realized  that,  notwithstanding  what 
i-die  had  learned  that  evening,  notwithstanding  that 
woman  was  Lord  ("Taunt's  wife,  she  loved  him  still. 

She  threw  herself  on  the  bed  at  last,  but  she  could  not 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  123 

p.  The  scene  she  had  gone  through  passed  through 
her  brain,  before  her  eyes  again  and  again ;  it  was  like  a 
scene  in  a  play. 

Toward  morning  she  fell  into  the  deep  sleep  of  exhaus- 
tion in  which  Gaunt  knelt  before  her,  clutching  at  her 
arm,  his  voice  rising  and  falling  in  the  anguish,  of  his  en- 
treaty. 

A  little  after  eight  o'clock  the  charwoman  knocked 
at  the  door  and  Decima  awoke.  She  tried  to  rise,  but  could 
not.  She  felt  as  if  her  limbs  were  weighted  with  lead,  as  if 
there  was  one  spot  in  her  brain  burning  like  a  hot  coal. 

The  woman  knocked  again,  and  Decima  called  to  her 
to  come  in.  Her  voice  sounded  weak  and  strained,  and 
the  woman  hurried  to  the  bed,  with  a  vague  alarm,  which 
grew  into  definite  dismay  as  she  looked  at  the  white  face, 
with  the  two  spots  of  livid  crimson  glowing  under  the 
glittering  eyes. 

"  Lor',  miss,  ain't  you  well  ?  "  she  said,  aghast.  "  You 
look — you  look  as  if  you  was  in  a  fever,  that  you  do ! 
You  must  'ave  got  a  chill  last  night." 

Decima  eyed  her  with  profound  indifference.  "  Yes,  I 
think  I  am  ill,"  she  said  as  if  she  were  speaking  to  some 
one  else,  some  one  who  did  not  matter  in  the  least,  was  of 
no' possible  importance.  "I  feel  as  if  I  could  not  move, 
and — and — my  head  is  on  fire  !  " 

The  woman  was  alarmed. 

"  I'll — I'll  go  for  a  doctor,"  she  said,  half  speaking  to 
herself.  "I  don't  like  the  looks  of  you  at  all,  miss." 

Decima  smiled  indifferently — it  was  a  piteous  smile ! 
"  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  die  ?  "  she  asked,  calmly, 
almost  hopefully. 

The  woman  forced  a  laugh. 

"  Xot  you,  miss  !  "  she  said.  "  Lor',  it's  only  a  feverish 
cold  as  'ave  took  'old  of  you  !  " 

Decima  sighed,  and  turned  her  head  away,  and  the 
woman,  after  looking  round  helplessly  for  a  moment, 
stole  from  the  room,  and  did  the  most  sensible  thing  she 
could  have  done.  There  was  a  telegraph  office  within  a 
few  yards,  and  she  wired  Lady  Pauline  and  then  hurried 
on  to  the  nearest  doctor. 

AVhen  she  came  back  Decima  was  staring  at  the  ceiling 
with  eyes  which  shone  and  glittered  with  fever,  and  her 


1-24  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

hands  were  clinched  on  the  satin  coverlet  as  if  she  were 
holding  on  to  consciousness  by  a  supreme  effort  of  will. 

When  Lady  Pauline  arrived  she  found  the  doctor  bend- 
ing over  Decima,  applying  iced  bandages  to  the  burning 
head.  He  greeted  Lady  Pauline  with  a  silent  nod,  and  in 
silence,  for  a  moment,  she  knelt  beside  the  bed.  Then  she 
said,  in  a  tremulous  whisper  : 

••  She  is  very  ill !     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Brain  fever,"  he  said,  gravely  and  aloud. 

There  was  no  need  to  whisper,  for  Decima  could  net- 
hear. 

"  How  did  she  come  here  ?  I  know  nothing !  "  she 
said,  as  she  took  off  her  bonnet  and  cloak.  lie  was  her 
own  doctor,  and  he  spoke  with  the  candor  which  he  knew 
she  desired  and  would  approve. 

'•  She  came  last  night,  about  four  o'clock,  so  the  char- 
woman tells  me.  Then  she  went  out — to  her  brother's— 
and  returned  about  ten.  She  was  quite  well  on  her  first 
arrival,  so  the  woman  says,  but  looked  pale  and  tired 
when  she  came  in  later. 

'•  Brain  fever ! "  said  Lady  Pauline,  calm  and  on  the 
alert  by  this  time.  "  I  don't  understand  ! "' 

lie  shook  his  head  gravely. 

"  Severe  brain  fever,"  he  said.  Absolute  candor  was  al- 
ways required,  demanded,  by  Lady  Pauline,  and  he  knew 
it.  "  There  was  no  other  trouble.  Something  was  on 
her  mind,  something  must  have  occurred  between  the  in- 
terval of  her  first  arrival  and  her  return  to  this  house." 

Lady  Pauline  stared  at  him. 

••  What  could  have  happened  ?  "  she  said. 

"That  we  have  to  discover,"  he  said,  quietly.  '-She 
must  be  kept  quiet ;  but  you  know  the  treatment  as  well 
as  I  do,  Lady  Pauline." 

Lady  Pauline  had  for  a  time  been  a  hospital  nurse  in. 
her  younger  days.  "I'll  come  back  in  an  hour  or  two. 
Keep  the  ice  bandages  going,  and  if  she  should  recover 
consciousness  before  I  return  keep  her  as  tranquil  as 
possible." 

Lady  Pauline  stood  beside  the  bed  with  tightly  com- 
pressed lips  and  aching  heart.  What  had  they  done  to 
this  girl  whom  she  loved  with  a  mother's  love?  The 
caar woman  stole  in  presently,  and  Lady  Pauline  ques- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  125 

tioned  her.  She  could  tell  no  more  than  the  doctor  had 
already  told.  Lady  Pauline  sent  her  with  a  telegram  to 
the  servants  to  return,  and  resumed  her  place  beside  the 
unconscious  girl.  The  doctor  came  in  again,  within  his 
time. 

"  Something  has  happened  to  her,  some  shock,"  he  said. 
•"  I  can  do  nothing  for  her  that  you  cannot  do,  Lady 
Pauline.  Absolute  quiet,  tranquillity  ;  that  is  all." 

The  hours  dragged  through.  Later,  Lady  Pauline  saw 
the  white  eyelids  quiver,  and  presently  Decima  looked  up 
at  her. 

"  Aunt  Pauline  ?  "  she  said,  in  the  thin,  strained  voice 
of  fever. 

«  Yes,  it  is  I,  Decie,  dear  ?  " 

The  burning  lips  smiled  woefully. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come — very  glad,  Aunt  Pauline  !  " 

"  Yes,  dear  ?  " 

"  Will  you  please  tell  Mr.  Mershon  that  I  cannot  marry 
him  ?  " 

Lady  Pauline  repressed  the  start.  Was  the  poor  child 
delirious?  But  Decima  smiled  again,  as  if  she  read  the 
question — the  doubt. 

"  Xo ;  I  am  quite  sensible,  dear,"  she  said.  "  I  prom- 
ised Mr.  Mershon — but  you  see  I  didn't  know  then  that 
I  loved  him." 

"  Him  ?     Who  ?  "  asked  Lady  Pauline. 

Decima  stared  at  her  as  if  surprised  that  the  question 
should  be  necessary. 

"  Lord  Gaunt,"  she  said,  quietly. 

Lady  Pauline  could  not  repress  the  start  now. 

"  Lord  Gaunt !  "  she  echoed. 

Decima's  hands  clutched  at  the  coverlet  with  feverish 
violence,  but  her  voice,  thin  and  hollow  though  it  was, 
was  calm  and  free  from  delirium. 

"Yes,"  she  said.  "Didn't  you  know?  I  love  him, 
and  " — an  exquisite  smile  lit  up  her  face,  making  its  pale 
loveliness  angelic  by  its  intensity — "  he  loves  me." 

Lady  Pauline  permitted  a  groan  to  escape  her. 

"  He  loves  me,"  continued  Decima.  "  We  shall  never 
see  each  other  again,  never.  But  I  cannot  marry  Mr. 
Mershon :  not  even  to  save  father  and  Bobby !  Poor 
JBobby  !  I  am  sorry,  but  I  cannot  do  it !  I  could  have 


123  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

done  it  if — if  I  had  not  seen  him — when  was  it  ?  I  forget ! 
AVas  it  long  ago — years  ago  ?  But  I  know  that-  lie  loves 
me,  and  I  love  him.  I  shall  never  see  him  again ;  but  I  can't 
marry  Mr.  Mershon,  or  any  one  else.  It  is  a  pity,  i.sirt 
ii '.'  I  kit  I  cannot !  Will  you  write  to  him  and  tell  him  ? 
He  lives  at  the  Firs,  Leafmore  " — Her  mind  wander 
a  moment.  "  Leafmore  !  How  beautiful  it  is !  If  he 
would  only  stay  !  The  schools — the  cottages — the  church  ! 
1  I>»\v  good  he  is !  He  does  all  we  ask  him  !  How  good  he 
is  !  and  I  love  him,  love  him,  love  him  !  His  wife  !  No, 
I  can't  be  his  wife  !  There  is  another  woman.  Oh,  why 
did  he  make  me  love  him  so ? " 

She  moved  her  head  from  side  to  side  with  feverish 
restlessness ;  then,  as  if  with  an  effort,  she  came  back  to 
full  consciousness. 

"  Write  to — to  Mr.  Mershon  at  once,  Aunt  Pauline.  Tell 
him  that  I  cannot— cannot !  Ask  him  not  to  be  angry  ! 
I  know  I  am  very  wicked.  Well,  that  is  all,  isn't  : 
love  him — love  him  !  Promise,  Aunt  Pauline !  I  am 
slipping  away — the  light — the  fire — all  is  growing  dim ! 
I  can't  see  your  face,  though  I  know  you  are  there ! 
Promise  ! " 

Lady  Pauline  bent  over  her." 

"  I  promise.  He  satisfied,  dear  !  "  she  said,  and  Dccima 
closed  her  eyes  and  drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

LORD  GAUNT  found  himself  in  the  street  outside  the 
Mansions,  very  much  in  the  condition  in  which  Decima 
had  been. 

His  brain  was  in  a  whirl.  For  his  life  had,  so  to  speak, 
ended.  He  had  lost  Decima,  the  girl-love,  who  had  filled 
his  heart,  who  had  been  the  one  star  shining  in  his 
darkened  life.  He  had  lost  her,  and  it  was  well !  lie 
shuddered  as  he  thought  of  the  risk  she  had  run  through 
his  overwhelming  temptation.  If  Laura,  his  wife — his 
wife! — had  not  appeared,  what  would  have  happened? 
Decima  would  have  gone  with  him,  and  he  would  have 
wrecked  the  life  of  the  sweetest,  the  purest  of  God's 
creatures ! 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  127 

He  shuddered  again,  and  an  icy  blast  seemed  to  sweep 
over  him.  He  felt  cold,  and  remembered  his  fur  coat  at 
that  moment,  so  absolutely  physical  was  the  sensation 
which  assailed  him.  He  could  not  go  back  for  the  coat. 
He  buttoned  the  shooting  jacket  and  went  on.  For  a 
time  he  walked  without  any  thought  of  the  direction  he 
was  taking,  but  suddenly  he  looked  round  and  found  him- 
self before  Lady  Pauline's  house  in  the  square.  He  gazed 
up  at  the  windows ;  there  was  a  light  only  in  one  ;  it 
must  be  her  room ;  she  was  there.  Scarcely  knowing 
what  he  was  doing,  he  stretched  his  arms  out  toward  the 
light  and  groaned.  lie  paced  up  and  down  for  a  moment 
or  two,  until,  indeed,  a  policeman  eyed  him  suspiciously, 
and  crossed  over  the  road  to  inspect  him  more  closely ; 
then  Gaunt  turned  and  strode  on. 

He  had  put  up  for  the  night  at  a  quiet  hotel  in  St. 
James',  one  of  those  old-fashioned  places  which  men  of 
Gaimfs  tastes  prefer.  It  was  small,  and  not  by  any 
means  gorgeous,  but  it  was  exclusive,  and  more  expensive 
than  any  of  the  modern  palatial  caravansaries.  The  butler 
—the  head  waiter  was  always  called  the  butler — met  him 
in  the  small  hall,  prepared  to  help  him  off  with  his  coat 
into  which  the  man  had  assisted  him,  and  was  rather 
surprised  at  seeing  Gaunt  without  it. 

"  I  have  left  my  coat  at  the — club,  Wilkins,"  said  Gaunt. 

"  Yes,  my  lord ;  I  will  send  for  it,"  said  Wilkins, 
promptly  ;  but  Gaunt  shook  his  head. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said.  "  I  will  pick  it  up  as  I  drive 
to  the  station  to-morrow." 

"  As  he  spoke  he  handed  his  hat  to  the  man,  and  Wil- 
kins, taking  it,  saw  the  streak  of  blood  on  Gaunt's  wrist. 

"Have  you  cut  your  hand,  my  lord  V  "  he  asked,  lie 
had  known  Gaunt  ever  since  he  was  a  boy. 

Gaunt  glanced  at  the  stained  wrist-band. 

"Eh?  Oh!  ah!  yes,  I  think  I  have.  No,  no;  it  is 
nothing.  No,  I  won't  have  anything,  thanks,  Wilkins  ;  I 
will  go  straight  up ;  I  am  tired.  You  will  have  me  called 
at  half-past  six,  please  ?  " 

He  went  up  to  his  room,  not  a  large,  but  an  extremely 
comfortable  one,  for  Morlet's  Hotel  was  the  perfection  of 
comfort  in  all  respects,  and,  locking  the  door,  flung  him- 
self into  a  chair  beside  the  fire. 


128  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Yes,  his  life  was  ended.  Remorse  and  love  tore  at  his 
heart  like  a  couple  of  vultures.  That  he  who  loved  her 
so  dearly,  so  truly,  should  have  tempted  her  to  her  ruin  ! 
1 1  is  sweet,  innocent  girl-love,  his  pure,  white  angel !  And 
he  should  never  see  her  again !  The  thought  affected  him 
as  at  that  moment  its  parallel  was  affecting  Decima.  He 
could  have  borne  the  parting — the  eternal  parting — 
better  if  he  had  not  known  that  she  returned  his  love  ; 
but  to  know  that  she  loved  him — actually  loved  him  !  — 
and  to  have  to  leave  her  forever  was  a  torture  that  nearly 
drove  him  mad. 

Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  he  had  not  yet  thought  of 
his  wife.  There  was  only  room  for  Decima  in  his  mind 
and  heart.  As  to  what  Laura  would  do  he  was  perfectly 
indifferent,  when  he  did  force  himself  to  think  of  her. 
That  she  would  carry  out  her  threat,  claim  her  right  as 
his  wifef  and  drag  his  name  in  the  mire,  was  quite  pos- 
sible, and,  more,  probable ;  but  what  did  it  matter  ? 
Nothing  she  could  do  could  affect  him.  In  a  few  hours 
he  would  have  left  England.  It  was  very  certain  that  he 
would  never  return.  She  might  do  just  what  she  pleased. 
He  would  give  her,  surrender  to  her  all  she  claimed — ex- 
cepting himself.  His  rank,  his  wealth,  the  position  due 
to  her  as  his  wife,  she  might  have ;  but  not  himself. 

Then  his  thoughts  returned  to  Decima.  She  must  not 
marry  Mershon.  That  he  felt  she  would  not  do ;  but  he 
would  destroy  Mersl  ion's  power ;  he  would  release  the 
Deanes  from  the  man's  clutches.  That,  at  any  rate,  he 
could  do. 

He  went  to  the  writing-table  and  wrote  a  letter  to  1V1- 
ford  &  Lang,  the  lawyers.  It  was  short  and  to  the  point. 

"Ascertain,"  he  said,  "the  amount  in  which  Mr.  IVu-r 
Deane  is  indebted  to  Mr.  Mershon,  or  any  persons  con- 
nected with  the  company  started  by  him  and  Mr.  Mershon, 
and  discharge  all  his  liabilities.  I  give  you  absolute  carte 
blanche  in  the  matter,  and  request  that  you  will  carry  it 
through  without  a  day's  delay.  It  will  have  to  be  done 
with  tact  and  discretion,  and  I  leave  the  mode  of  doing 
it  entirely  to  you,  insisting  only  that  it  shall  be  done  at 
once." 

He  drew  a  breath  of  relief  as  he  addressed  the  envelope. 
At  least  he  could  snatch  his  dearest  from  Mr.  Mershon's 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  129 

clutches.  But,  alas  !  alas ;  that  was  all  he  could  do !  He 
could  not  heal  the  heart  he  had  broken — for  that  he  had 
broken  it  the  memory  of  her  face,  of  her  eyes,  as  they 
rested  on  him  at  the  moment  of  their  parting  convinced 
him.  Yes,  that  was  what — his  love  for  her  had  wrought! 
He  had  broken  her  heart.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it  would 
have  been  better  if  the  other  woman  had  not  come  in,  and 
he  and  Decima  had  gone  away  together — together  !  But 
he  put  the  thought  away  from  him.  It  was  desecration, 
a  sacrilege.  He  had  been  mad  with  passion,  with  the  in- 
toxication of  her  presence,  her  sweet  voice,  and,  more  than 
all,  her  confession  of  love. 

He  paced  up  and  down  the  room  until  dawn ;  then  he 
packed  the  single  bag  he  had  with  him — the  rest  of  his 
luggage  was  already  on  board — and,  flinging  himself  on 
the  bed,  tried  to  sleep.  But,  like  Macbeth,  he  had 
murdered  sleep,  and  he  was  still  awake  when  the  maid 
knocked  at  the  door. 

The  sight  of  his  face  in  the  glass  startled  him ;  he  was 
shaking  like  a  man  suffering  from  the  effects  of  a  drink- 
ing bout.  But  the  cold  bath  pulled  him  together  some- 
what, and  he  made  a  pretense  of  eating  the  admirably 
cooked  breakfast.  Then  he  got  into  a  cab  and  was  driven 
to  Charing  Cross.  Waterloo  was  his  station  for  South- 
ampton ;/but  he  had  not  intended  taking  Decima  to  Af- 
rica ;  he  was  known  at  Cape  Town,  was  known  to  the 
officers  of  the  vessel — the  Pevensey  Castle — in  which  he 
had  booked  his  passage ;  so  he  had  fixed  on  Egypt  as 
their  place  of  refuge,  and  he  drove  to  Charing  Cross  on 
the  chance.  She  might  be  there ! 

The  clock  struck  eight  as  he  drove  into  the  station 
yard.  He  told  the  cabman  to  wait,  and  then  looked  for 
her — though  he  knew  that  she  would  not  come. 

She  had  not  come.  With  a  sigh  and  a  twitch  of  his  set 
lips,  he  got  into  the  cab  again,  and  was  driven  to  Water- 
loo. He  was  just  in  time  to  catch  the  train. 

At  Southampton  one  of  the  Castle  officials  met  him,  and 
conducted  him  to  the  vessel. 

"  Your  luggage  and  cases  are  on  board,  my  lord,"  he 
said.  "  Is  this  all  you  have  ?  We  start  in  less  than  an 
hour,  or  thereabouts." 

Gaunt  went  down  to  his  cabin — the  best  in  the  vessel 


130  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

— and  found  everything  arranged  comfortably.  After  a 
few  minutes  he  went  on  deck  and,  lighting  a  cigar,  got 
into  a  quiet  corner  and  leaned  against  the  side,  apparently 
watching  the  bustling  crowd,  but  in  reality  seeing  noth- 
ing of  it.  A  girl's  face,  white  and  terror-stricken,  with 
quivering  lips  and  straining  eyes,  floated  before  him ; 
above  the  shouts  of  the  men  and  the  chatter  of  arriving 
passengers  he  heard  Decima's  voice  crying,  "  Your  wife ! 
your  wife ! " 

About  half  an  hour  before  the  sailing  time  Gaunt  saw 
a  man  come  along  the  gangway  carrying  a  bag  in  his 
hand.  He  was  a  young  man,  with  red  hair  and  a  pale 
face,  with  small,  bloodshot  eyes.  The  collar  of  his  over- 
coat was  turned  up,  and. he  looked  cold  and  ill. 

He  came  across  the  deck  and  paused  by  Gaunt  and 
looked  round.  Gaunt  watched  him  listlessly,  scarcely 
noticing  him.  Presently  the  steward  came  to  him  and 
asked  him  the  number  of  his  berth. 

The  young  fellow  hesitated  a  moment,  then  he  said,  in 
a  dull,  expressionless  voice  : 

"  I  don't  know  it  yet.  My  name  is  Jackson ;  I  wired 
for  a  berth  this  morning." 

The  steward  consulted  his  list. 

"  Ah,  yes,  '  Jackson.'  That's  right,  sir.  I  got  the  wire. 
I'm  afraid  you  won't  think  the  cabin  first-rate,  but  it  was 
short  notice,  you  see." 

Mr.  Jackson  nodded. 

"  I  didn't  know  I  was  going  till  last  night,"  he  said. 
"Important  business  over  there — sprung  on  me  suddenly." 

The  steward  nodded.  A  great  many  persons  had  of 
late  had  important  business  sprung  upon  them  from 
Africa,  and  had  been  compelled  to  rush  over  there  sud- 
denly, and  at  short  notice. 

4>  Xo.  63,  sir,"  he  said.  "  If  you'll  corne  down  I'll  show 
you." 

"Thanks,"  said  Mr.  Jackson.  "When— when  do  we 
start  ?  " 

"Almost  immediately,  sir,"  said  the  steward,  bustling 
ahead. 

The  young  fellow  glanced  toward  the  quay,  and  round 
the  deck,  then  followed  him  below. 

The  bustle  and  confusion  increased  j  then  suddenly  the 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  131 

signal  sounded  for  the  departure  from  the  vessel  of  those 
who  were  not  going  on  the  voyage,  and  the  usual  parting 
of  relatives  and  friends  took  place,  and  the  visitors  hurried 
ashore.  A  few  minutes  later  the  vessel  started,  and  amid 
cheering  and  handkerchief- waving,  slowed  from  the  quay. 
Gaunt  still  remained  in  his  quiet  corner,  and  presently  he 
saw  the  red-headed  Mr.  Jackson  come  up  from  the  saloon. 
He  stood  at  the  entrance  for  a  moment  or  two,  then  came 
across  the  deck  and  looked  gloomily  and  yet  vacantly  at 
the  now  fast- receding  quay ;  as  he  did  so  he  took  out  a 
cigar-case  and  absently  put  a  cigar  between  his  lips.  It 
was  evident  that  his  match-box  was  empty,  for  he  dropped 
it  into  his  pocket  again  and  looked  round. 

Gaunt  was  standing  near  and  silently  extended  his  box. 
Mr.  Jackson  took  it  and  lit  a  match,  and  Gaunt  noticed 
that  the  man's  hand  shook.  He  looked  across  the  lighted 
match  as  he  held  it  to  his  cigar,  and  caught  Gaunt's  eye, 
and  as  if  he  knew  that  Gaunt  had  noticed  the  shaking  of 
the  hand,  he  said,  rather  reluctantly  : 

"  Cold  this  morning !  " 

Gaunt  nodded.  He  was  not  in  the  humor  for  conver- 
sation. 

"  Beastly  cold ! "  said  Mr.  Jackson,  with  a  faint  shudder 
"  But  I'm  somewhat  nervous  and— and  feel  it  more  than 
I  should  otherwise  do,  I  suppose." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  he  asked,  carelessly  : 

"  Do  we  stop  at  Madeira,  do  you  happen  to  know  ?  I've 
had  to  start  suddenly— important  business  at  the  Cape- 
only  heard  last  flight— and  so  I  don't  know." 

"No;  this  is  not 'one  of  the  regular  vessels.  We  stop 
at  the  Canaries." 

The  young  fellow  nodded. 

"  Ah,  thanks  !  "  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

Gaunt  moved  away,  and  presently  went  down  to  his 
cabin  to  avoid  any  further  talk.  His  heart  was  aching 
as  badly  as  any  on  board — aching  with  an  agony  beyond 
words.  He  was  leaving  England  and  Decima  forever ! 
Farewell  love  and  all  hope  in  life !  Despair  stretched 
darkly  before  him. 


132  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ABOUT  an  hour  after  Trevor  had  stolen  from  the  Prince's 
Mansions,  the  parlor  maid  glanced  up  at  the  clock  in  tho 
kitchen. 

"  I  suppose  his  lordship  isn't  coming  back  to-night,  or 
he'd  have  told  me  to  get  a  room  ready  ?  "  she  remarked 
to  the  cook,  who  yawned  in  sympathy  ;  "  and  yet  he's  left 
his  coat." 

"  Perhaps  he's  come  back  and  got  it,"  suggested  the 
cook. 

"  Xo,  or  I  should  have  heard  him,  for  I've  been  listen- 
ing. I  wonder  when  Mrs.  Dalton  left  ?  I  didn't  see  her 
go,  and  his  lordship  didn't  ring.  She  and  Mr.  Deane's 
sister  must  have  gone  together,  I  suppose.  Now  there's 
u  pretty  girl,  if  you  like,  cook  !  and  the  image  of  her 
brother.  We've  had  quite  a  lot  of  visitors  to-night,"  and 
she  laughed. 

"  Perhaps  they're  in  the  drawing-room  now  ?  "  said  the 
cook. 

Jane  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  it's  all  quiet.  I  went  and  listened  at  the  door 
just  now,  and,  not  hearing  anyone,  I  knocked  and  looked 
in.  There  was  no  one  there.  I  got  a  start,  though," 
she  added,  with  a  smile. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Well,  his  lordship  had  thrown  his  fur  coat  on  the 
sofa,  and  it  looked  for  all  the  world  as  if  somebody  was 
lying  there,"  replied  Jane.  She  yawned  again.  '•  Well, 
I  think  we'd  better  go  to  bed  ;  it's  no  use  sitting  up  for 
Mr.  Deane.  I  expect  he's  at  Cardigan  Terrace,  and  if  so 
lie  won't  be  home  till  the  small  hours." 

"Better  see  to  the  drawing-room  fire,  hadn't  you?" 
said  the  cook  as  she  turned  down  the  page  of  her  novel ; 
but  Jane  shook  her  head. 

"  Oh,  it  don't  matter.  Mr.  Deane  always  goes  straight 
to  bed  when  he  comes  in  ;  I  hear  his  door  shut." 

The  two  women  went  to  bed  after  a  little  more  talk, 
and  the  place  was  wrapped  in  silence.  Bobby  was  not  an 
early  riser — few  young  persons  are  ;  it  is  the  middle-aged 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  133 

and  the  old  who  find  it  easier  to  get  up  than  to  lie  think- 
ing— and  if  Bobby  got  his  breakfast  by  ten  o'clock  he  was 
quite  suited  and  satisfied.  Lord  Gaunt's  servants  had  an 
easy  time  of  it  in  that  respect. 

It  was  past  nine  when  Jane  went  into  the  drawing-room 
to  light  the  fire.  The  electric  lamp  was  still  burning,  and 
she  looked  over  her  shoulder  and  called  to  the  cook. 

"  Mr.  Deane  hasn't  come  in  yet,"  she  said.  "  I  wonder 
where  he  is  ?  " 

The  cook  grumbled  incoherently. 

"  I  suppose  I  had  better  get  breakfast  all  the  same  ?  " 
she  said.  "  If  I  don't  he'll  come  rushing  in,  and  want  it 
all  of  a  hurry.  It  always  happens  like  that." 

Jane  laughed,  turned  out  the  lamp  and  drew  back  the 
curtains.  As  she  did  so,  she  was  conscious  of  a  faint  per- 
fume ;  she  knew  it  very  Avell,  for  it  Avas  the  scent  that 
always  hung  about  Mr.  Deane's  clothes  when  he  had  been 
at  Cardigan  Terrace.  But  it  was  stronger  than  usual  in 
the  room  this  morning. 

She  opened  the  window,  and  laid  and  lit  the  fire,  pick- 
ing up  the  shattered  photograph,  then  began  to  sweep  the 
room,  but  her  eyes  fell  on  the  costly  coat  on  the  sofa. 

"  I'd  better  take  it  into  the  bedroom,"  she  said  to  her- 
self, "or  it  will  be  smothered  with  dust.  Lor',  how  care- 
less gentlefolk  are  of  their  things  !  " 

A  moment  afterward  a  shriek  rang  through  the  place, 
and  the  cook,  rushing  into  the  room  whence  the  cry  had 
proceeded,  found  her  fellow-servant  leaning  against  the 
table,  with  the  coat  at  her  feet,  and  her  eyes  staring  at 
something  on  the  sofa. 

"  Good  heavens,  Jane,  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 

Then  she,  too,  screamed,  and  the  two  women  stood 
clinging  to  each  other  and  staring  at  the  motionless  figure 
with  terror  in  their  eyes. 

Their  cries,  repeated  again  and  again,  brought  the  por- 
ter and  the  page  into  the  room,  followed  by  two  or  three 
occupants  of  the  other  flats ;  among  the  latter  was  a  re- 
tired army  doctor,  who,  taking  in  the  situation  at  a  glance, 
pushed  his  way  to  the  couch  and  examined  the  body. 

"  She  is  dead  !  "  he  said,  gravely.  "  Who  are  the  ser- 
vants here  ?  Ah !  Do  you  know  the  lady '?  Who  is 
she  ?  " 


134  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Jane,  half  fainting,  gasped  out  the  name. 

"It's  Mrs.  Dalton— Mr.  Thorpe's  sister!  She  came 
here  last  iiight ! " 

She  broke  into  terrified  sobs. 

"Alone?"  asked  the  doctor.  "But  stop — better  not 
answer !  Let  some  one  go  for  the  gentleman,  Mr.  Thorpe. 
Here,  boy,  take  a  cab  and  bring  him  !"  lie  thrust  the 
page-boy  from  the  room,  and  turned  to  the  porter  as  he 
did  so.  "  And  you  go  for  the  police." 

In  a  very  short  time  two  policemen  were  on  the  scene. 
They  cleared  the  room  and  mounted  guard  beside  the 
body. 

"  We've  sent  to  Scotland  Yard  for  a  detective,"  one 
said  to  the  doctor. 

He  arrived  before  Morgan   Thorpe,  and  at  once,  with 
the  saiif/froidoi  experience,  took  p<  esession  of  -  the  case," 
and  with  notebook  in  hand  he  was  questioning  the  s< 
ants  when  Morgan  Thorpe  burst  in. 

He  was  white  as  death,  but  the  pallor  increased  to  liv- 
dity  as  he  bent  over  the  body  and  gazed  at  the  beautiful 
face,  now  placid  with  the  rest  and  peace  of  death. 

"  You  know  her— identify  her  ?  "  asked  the  detective. 
"  Of  course,  I  warn  you  that  anvthing  you  sav — vou  un- 
derstand?" 

-Yes.  sho  is— is  my  sister !"  said  Thorpe,  leaning 
against  the  table  and  staring  at  the  dead  woman.  ••  My 
si.-uer,  yes !" 

"You  knew  she  had  come  he: 

Thorpe  nodded. 

"Why  did  she  come  here?  Whom  did  she  come  to 
see  ?  " 

"  Deane,"  replied  Thorpe. 

In  that  moment  falsehood,  evasion,  were  impossible. 

<;  Deane — who  is  he  ?  " 

"  He  lives  here— in  these  rooms,"  said  Thorpe.  "My 
('<>(! !  I  thought  she  was  at  home— in  her  room.  I  came 
back  late  last  night— from  the  club— it  was  early  this 
morning.  Her  door  was  closed.  I — I  thought  she  \\  as  in 
bed  !  I  went  to  my  room,  and— and  I  was  in  bed  when 
they  fetched  me  !  Who — who  has  done  it  ?  She  has  1 . 
murdered ! " 

"  I'm  afraid  so,"  said  the  detective,  grimly.     He  looked 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  135 

ut  the  Persian  dagger,  which  lay  on  the  floor  as  it  had 
dropped  from  Trevor's  hand.  "  That  did  it :  don't  touch 
it,  please,"  he  added,  though  any  of  those  present  would 
have  died  rather  than  do  so.  "  Why  did  she  come  here 
to  see  Mr.  Deane — a  lady — alone — you  know  ?  " 

Thorps  moistened  his  parched  lips. 

"  For  God's  sake  !  give  me  something — brandy  !  " 

The  detective  nodded,  and  the  doctor  poured  out  a  glass 
of  brandy  for  Thorpe.  He  drank  it  at  a  draught. 

"  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know.  She — she — "  He  shuddered. 
"  She  came  here  to — to  get  some  money  from  him." 

The  detective  made  a  note. 

"  Go  on,"  he  said,  gravely.     "  Came  to  threaten  him  ?  " 

"  No,  no — only — only  persuade,"  said  Thorpe.  "  Oh, 
Laura !  Laura ! " 

The  detective  turned  to  the  trembling,  shrinking  serv- 
ants. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Deane  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I — I  don't  kno\v,  sir  !  "  said  Jane,  with  a  terrified  sob. 
"  He — he  hasn't  been  home  all  night." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  V "  demanded  the  detective, 
quietly. 

The  girl  looked  round  with  a  bewildered  air. 

"  He  hasn't — so  far  as  I  know." 

The  detective  nodded.  His  sharp  eye  had  caught  the 
shattered  portrait  frame,  where  Jane,  all  unsuspectingly 
— she  thought  that  it  had  been  accidentally  knocked  off 
the  mantel-piece — had  placed  it  on  the  table.  He  took  it 
up. 

"  Portrait  of  the  deceased.     Whose  is  it  ?  " 

"  Mr. — Mr.  Deane's,  sir,"  sobbed  Jane.  "  He — he  put 
it  on  the  mantelshelf  the  other  day." 

It  all  seemed  so  plain  to  the  shrewd  detective.  The 
woman  had  come  to  threaten  or  cajole  this  Mr.  Deane,  a 
quarrel  had  ensued  ;  the  broken  portrait,  the  dagger.  It 
was  all  quite  plain  ! 

"  Give  me  a  description  of  Mr.  Deane,  will  you  ? "  he 
said. 

Thorpe,  with  his  hand  to  his  heart,  tried  to  describe 
Bobby,  and  the  detective  took  notes. 

"  You  can  go  into  the  kitchen,"  he  said  to  the  servants. 
"  But  don't  leave  the  place,  please." 


136  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

« It's  quite  evident  who's  to  blame  here,"  he  said  to  the 
army  doctor,  who  stood  grave  and  attentive.  "  I'll  get  a 
warrant  for  this  Mr.  Deane." 

Thorpe  overheard,  and  looked  up  with  a  bewildered  ex- 
pression. 

"  Deane— Dearie  did  not  do  it,"  he  said,  feebly.  «  He- 
he  isn't  capable  of  it !  Oh,  my  God !  why  did  I  let  her 
come  ?  It  isn't  Deane ! " 

But  the  detective  smiled — a  superior  smile.  "  His  ex- 
perience had  convinced  him  that,  as  a  rule,  there  was  very 
little  mystery  about  a  murder.  It  was  only  in  novels  that 
there  was  any  doubt  as  to  the  criminal  who  had  commit- 
ted the  deed. 

He  went  to  the  door  of  the  inner  room  and  tried  it. 

"  Locked,"  he  said  to  one  of  the  constables.  "  Go  round 
and  see  if  the  key's  inside." 

The  man  went  round  and  unlocked  the  door,  and  the 
detective  passed  through  the  suite  of  rooms,  noting  every- 
thing with  his  sharp  eyes,  and  re-entered  the  drawing- 
room  by  the  passage. 

"  He  got  off  through  those  rooms,"  he  said  to  the  doctor. 

"  The — the  scoundrel !  "  he  gasped  in  response.  "  You 
— you  will  l>e  able  to  get  him  ?  " 

The  detective  smiled  confidently. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  crime's,  too  recent  for  him  to  escape.  Ill 
have  him  under  the  hue  and  cry  in  half  an  hour." 

Leaving  the  policeman  in  charge,  he  went  back  to 
Scotland  Yard,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a  fairly  accurate  de- 
scription of  Bobby  was  being  flashed  over  the  country. 

Then  the  detective,  with  other  officials,  returned  to  the 
Mansions  two  hours  later.  Morgan  Thorpe  was  still 
there,  seated  in  a  chair,  his  head  in  his  hands.  He  had 
finished  the  decanter  of  brandy,  and  was  looking  half 
stupefied. 

As  they  entered  he  looked  up  in  a  bewildered  fashion. 

"  Have — have  you  found  him  ?  "  he  demanded,  hoarsely. 

"  Xo,"  said  the  detective,  «  but  we  shall  have  him  pres- 
ently without  a  doubt.  He  can't  have  got  far." 

At  this  moment  the  door  was  flung  open  and  Bobby 
and  an  elderly  man  entered  in  hot  haste. 

Morgan  Thorpe  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Deane !  "  he  exclaimed. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  137 

The   detective   stepped   behind   Bobby   and  shut   the 
cloor. 

"  Mr.  Deane,  I  think  ?  "    he  said,  politely.     "  I  arrest 


But  Bobby  had  sprung  to  the  sofa  and  stood  white  and 
shuddering  before  the  white  sheet  with  which  they  had 
reverently  covered  the  dead  woman. 

"  It  —  it  is  not  true  !  "  he  cried.  "  Oh,  it  can't  —  it  can't 
"be  !  Thorpe  !  "  he  flung  his  hands  out  in  appeal,  "  tell 
me  it  isn't  true  !  " 

Thorpe  stared  at  him. 

"  She's  dead  —  murdered  !  "  he  gasped,  with  hanging 
underlip.  "  Murdered  here  —  last  night  —  in  your  rooms  !  " 

«  My  God  !  "  cried  Bobby. 

The  detective  laid  a  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

'•  Mr.  Deane,  I  arrest  you  on  a  charge  of  wilful  murder." 

1  Jol  >1  >y  turned  his  eyes  upon  him,  too  stunned  to  speak  ; 
but  the  elderly  gentleman  beside  him  said  with  agitation  : 

"  There  is  some  mistake.  If  the  poor  creature  wa.s 
murdered  last  night  Mr.  Deane  is  certainly  not  the  crim- 
inal, for  he  spent  all  last  evening  at  my  house  at  Putney  ; 
he  came  to  dine,  with  two  other  gentlemen  —  also  pupils 
of  mine  —  and  remained  the  night.  I  —  the  other  guests, 
the  servants  —  can  prove  this." 

The  detective  was  staggered. 

"  She  came  to  see  him.  She  was  found  covered  by 
your  coat  ;  "  he  indicated  the  fur  coat." 

"Mine?     Xo  !  "  said  Bobby. 

The  detective  looked  round  at  the  servants  sharply. 

"  Whose  coat  is  tins  ?  "  he  asked,  sternly. 

Jane  gasped  for  breath. 

"  My  master's  —  Lord  —  Lord  Gaunt's  !  "  she  said  at 
last. 

The  detective  frowned. 

';  When  did  you  see  Lord  Gaunt  last  ?  "  he  asked 
quickly. 

"  Last  night  —  about  ten  —  he  passed  me  in  the  corridor." 

"  He  was  here,  then  ?  " 

She  nodded  spasmodically. 

«  Yes,  I  let  him  in." 

"  Did  he  wear  that  coat  ?  " 

She  nodded  and  fell  to  sobbing. 


138  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Yes,  he  came  in  it ;  he  left  without  it ;  but— hut  if 
you  think  that  his  lordship  did  it,  you're  wrong — wrong. 
He  couldn't ! " 

The  detective  turned  swiftly  upon  Morgan  Thorpe. 

"Did  your  sister  know  Lord  Gaunt?"  he  asked. 

Morgan  Thorpe  got  up,  and  steadied  himself  by  the 
back  of  the  chair. 

"My  God  !  it's  no  use  keeping  it  back  !"  he  said,  as  if 
to  himself:  "  Gentlemen,  my  poor  sister — was  Lord 
Gaunt's  wife !  " 

"  His  wife !     You  described  her  as  Mrs.  Dalton." 

"  She  was  his  wife ! "  said  Thorpe,  with  a  kind  of 
dogged  sullenness.  '.'They — they  were  separated.  lie 
left  her.  They  must  have  met  by  accident  here  last 
night." 

One  of  the  Scotland  Yard  officials  drew  the  detective 
aside. 

"  You've  made  a  mistake  this  time,"  he  said,  in  a  low 
voice.  "The  man  you  want  is  this  Lord  Gaunt !  Hurry 
up !  You've  lost  a  lot  of  time  as  it  is." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  detective  was  staggered,  and  looked  round  rather 
sullenly.  His  professional  reputation  was  a  high  one,  and 
he  felt  his  mistake  acutely. 

"  What  hotel  does  Lord  Gaunt  use  ?  "  he  asked  of  the 
servant. 

"  He  always  goes  to  Morlet's  when  the  rooms  arc 
being  done  up,  or  he  can't  sleep  here  for  any  reason," 
said  Jane,  weeping.  "  But  it  isn't  his  lordship " 

The  detective  left  the  room  and  got  into  a  cab. 

"  Lord  Gaunt  in  ?  "  he  inquired,  carelessly,  of  Wilkins. 

"  His  lordship  left  us  early  this  morning,  sir,"  was  the 
reply. 

The  detective  had  quite  expected  this  answer. 

"  Do  you  know  where  I  can  find  him  ?  "  he  inquired  as 
carelessly. 

Wilkins  looked  surprised. 

"  His  lordship  left  for  Africa  this  morning,"  he  said. 
"  The  vessel  must  have  started  by  this  time.  We  sent 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  139 

hi*  lordship's  luggage  011  yesterday — to  the  Pevensey 
Castle." 

The  detective  nodded  and  bit  his  lip.  Then  he  stood 
for  a  moment  pondering.  Surely  Lord  Gaunt  would  not 
have  been  such  a  fool  as  to  shut  himself  up  in  a  vessel 
which  could  be  stopped  by  a  cable  at  Madeira  ! 

"  Went  in  a  cab,  I  suppose  ?  "  he  said. 

"Yes,  sir  ;  a  hansom.     His  lordship  only  had  a  bag." 

"  Just  so.'  Did  you  happen  to  hear  what  direction  he 
gave  the  cabman  ?  I've  got  important  business  with  his 
lordship  and  want  to  catch  him  before  he  starts,  if  I  can." 

«  He  said,  '  Charing  Cross  Station,'  "  said  Wilkins.  "  I 
happened  to  hear  him." 

The  detective's  face  cleared.  Of  course !  Gaunt  would 
leave  his  luggage  to  go  by  the  Cape  vessel  and  himself 
make  for  the  Continent.  The  detective  saw  the  move  in 
an  instant. 

"  Thanks  !  "  he  said,  and  he  jumped  into  his  cab  and  was 
driven  to  Charing  Cross.  There  he  wired  a  description 
of  Lord  Gaunt  to  the  police  at  Southampton  and  Dover 
and  instructed  them  to  stop  him.  A  Continental  train 
happened  to  be  due,  and  the  detective,  pretty  well  as- 
sured that  he  was  on  the  track  of  the  fugitive,  went  down 
to  Dover  by  it. 

The  Southampton  telegram  arrived  exactly  one  hour 
after  the  Pevensey  Castle  had  sailed. 

Meanwhile  the  police  at  the  Mansions  were  gathering 
information  from  the  servants  and  other  persons ;  and 
very  soon  the  fact  of  Decima's  visit  on  the  previous  even- 
ing came  out. 

Bobby  was  amazed  and  horrified. 

"  Yes,  she  is  my  sister,"  he  said.  "  She  must  have 
come  to  see  me,  as  Jane  says.  She  could  not  have  come 
to  meet  Lord  Gaunt ! "  for  the  inspector  had  ventured  to 
suggest  this. 

"  Where  should  we  be  likely  to  find  Miss  Deane  ?  "  he 
asked,  significantly. 

Bobby  shook  his  head.  He  was  confused  and  bewil- 
dered. 

"  She  may  be  with  her  aunt,  Lady  Pauline  Lascelles, 
or  she  may  have  gone  back  home.  I  cannot  understand ! 
I  will  go  round  to  Lady  Pauline's." 


140  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

The  inspector  nodded. 

"  One  of  my  men  will  go  round  with  you,"  he  said, 
gravely. 

Bobby  started. 

"  You — you  don't  think — you  don't  dare  to  suspect  my 
sister" — he  began  ;  and  the  inspector  responded  quietly  : 

"  Well,  the  young  lady  was  here  last  night,  Mr.  Deane. 
I  will  ask  you  to  see  that  she  does  not  leave  London  just 
yet.  She  will  be  sure  to  be  wanted,  you  see." 

Bobby  went  round  to  Berkeley  Square  accompanied  :>y 
a  detective,  and  Lady  Pauline  came  down  to  the  drawing- 
room  to  them. 

"  A  terrible  thing  has  happened,  Lady  Pauline,''  said 
Bobby,  whose  white  face  and  quivering  lips  had  startled 
her.  "  — A  lady  has  been  found  dead — murdered — in 
my — that  is,  Lord  Gaunt's — rooms ;  and — and — is  Decima 
here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  is  here,"  said  Lady  Pauline,  gravely.  "  She 
is  very  ill  with  brain  fever." 

Bobby  uttered  an  exclamation. 

"I  must  see  her,  Lady  Pauline.     I  must !     They 
it  is  said — that  she  was  at  my  rooms  last  night,  and — 
and " 

Lady  Pauline's  strength  of  mind  came  to  her  aid. 

"  In  the  rooms  where  this  poor  lady  lias  been  found  ':  '• 
she  said.     "  Yes,  I  know  that  she  went  to  your  rooms  ; 
the  woman  in  charge  of  the  house  told  me  so.     But— 
she  stopped, struck  silent  by  the  expression  of  Bobby's 
face. 

"  Tell  me  all  you  know,"  she  said,  gravely  and  calmly. 

Bobby,  in  hurried  and  agitated  accents,  told  all  that  he 
knew. 

"  It  is  dreadful  to  think,  to  suggest,  that  Decima  is 
mixed  up  in  this  !  "  he  said.  "  She  cannot  possibly  know 
anything  about  it.  Oh,  let  me  see  her  ! '' 

"  You  may  see  her,"  said  Lady  Paulino,  "  but  you  can- 
not learn  anything  from  her.  She  is  quite  unconscious. 
Here  is  the  doctor."  She  heard  his  step  coming  down 
the  stairs,  and  called  him  in. 

"Miss  Deane  is  ill,  very  ill,"  ho  said,  quietly.  -She 
may  remain  unconscious  for  some  time,  possibly  for  da  vs. 
You  may  see  her,  yes ;  you  can  do  no  harm." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  141 

Bobby  went  up  and  stood  and  gazed  at  the  white  face 
with  the  staring  eyes ;  then  he  came  down  again,  and 
looked  helplessly  round  him. 

"  We  may  as  well  go,  sir,"  said  the  detective.  "  Lady 
Pauline  will  let  us  know  when  Miss  Deane  is  well  enough 
to  be  asked  any  questions." 

They  returned  to  Prince's  Mansions,  and  the  detective 
made  his  report  to  the  inspector.  He  nodded  gravely 
and  drew  Bobby  aside. 

"  Miss  Deane  will  be  an  important  witness,"  he  said. 
"I  may  as  well  tell  you,  Mr.  Deane — mind,  I  don't  speak 
officially — that  we  do  not  suspect  Miss  Deane  !  " 

"  Suspect ! "  exclaimed  Bobby,  indignantly. 

The  inspector  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"  Well,  she  was  here,  you  see ;  and  any  one  present  in 
these  rooms  last  night  might  fall  under  suspicion ;  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  case  against  Lord  Gaunt  is  as  clear 
as  noonday." 

"  Lord  Gaunt !  "  said  Bobby,  chokingly.  "  He  is  incap- 
able of  it." 

The  inspector  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  That's  what  one  so  often  thinks,"  he  said.  "  How- 
ever, we  shall  soon  see.  Our  man  will  have  overtaken 
him  by  this  time,  T.  should  think." 

They  had  removed  the  body,  but  Morgan  Thorpe  had 
still  lingered.  The  shock  and  the  brandy  he  had  con- 
sumed had  rendered  him  a  pitiable  spectacle. 

"  Come — come  home  with  me  !  Don't  leave  me  alone, 
Deane,  for  God's  sake !  "  he  said,  clutching  at  Bobby's 
arm  and  quite  forgetting  his  recent  plot  to  rob  him. 

"  I  will  see  you  home,"  said  Bobby,  passing  his  hand 
across  his  brow.  "  I  don't  know  what  to  do — where  to 
turn.  I  ought  to  go  home  and  tell  my  father  of  all  this 
— not  that  it  would  be  of  any  use  ! — but  I  can't  leave  my 
sister.  Yes,  I  will  go  home  with  you." 

They  went  to  Cardigan  Terrace  and  Bobby  looked  round 
the  familiar  room  with  a  shudder ;  he  could  almost  see 
the  small,  exquisitely  dressed  figure  sitting  at  the  piano. 

There  was  a  letter  on  the  mantel  shelf,  and  Morgan 
Thorpe  took  it  up,  and  opened  the  envelope  with  shaking 
fingers.  But  he  was  incapable  of  reading  it  and  he  held  it 
out  to  Bobby. 


142  HER  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

"  Read  it,  Deane,"  he  said,  and  he  made  for  the  liquor 
stand  on  the  sideboard. 

"  It  is  from  Trevor,"  said  Bobby,  and  he  read  the  note 
aloud ; 

•  ' '  DEAR  THORPE:— I  feel  played  out  and  shall  run  over  to  the  Con- 
tinent for  a  change ;  may  stay  soine  time.  I  was  sorry  to  hear 
that  Mrs.  Dalton  had  a  bad  headache  when  I  called  to  say  '  g 
by.'  I  am  starting  in  half  an  hour.  I  packed  this  morning.  Al 
ways  do  things  suddenly,  don't  I  ?  Remember  me  to  Deane  and 
all  the  rest.  Yours, 

"  RALPH  TREVOR." 

Thorpe  moaned  in  a  maudlin  "way.  "  Poor  old  Trevor  ! 
He  will  be  awfully  cut  up  when  he  hears  of — of  it !  He 
was  very  fond  of  her,  Deane !  My  poor  Laura  !  "  He 
drew  the  hand  which  held  the  tumbler  of  brandy-and-soda 
across  his  eyes.  "  I  can't  realize  it  yet !  What  a  loss  for 
me  !  She  was  so — so  clever  !  I  shall  never  get  on  with- 
out her  !  So  Trevor's  gone !  It  seems  as  if  everybody  had 
gone  !  You'll  .stand  by  me,  Deane.  You — you  may  hear 
all  sorts  of  things  about  me,  but  you — you  won't  believe 
them,  Deane  !  I've  always  had  a  liking  for  you,  my  dear 
boy,  always " 

"  Better  not  drink  any  more,"  said  Bobby  ;  but  Thorpe 
shook  his  head. 

"  It's  the  only  thing  that  will  keep  me  up !     To  think 
that  Laura's  dead  ;  butchered — and  by  that  beast,  Gaunt ! 
I  always  hated  him.     A  stuck-up,  sneering  beast !     ^» 
I  always  hated  him,  and  so  did  she !  " 

"  And  they  were  married  ?  "  said  Bobby,  with  a  sharp 
pang  of  remorse  for  his  own  folly. 

Thorpe  nodded. 

"  Yes ;  don't  bear  any  malice,  because  I  kept  it  from 
you,  dear  boy.  It  was  her  secret,  not  mine,  and  she  was 
so  sensitive  !  My  poor  Laura  !  But  he  shall  hang  for  it  I 
He  shall  hang  for  it !  " 

Bobby  shuddered. 

"  I  don't  believe  he  did  it,  I  can't !  "  he  said.  "  I  know 
Gaunt.  As  I've  said  a  score  of  times,  he  isn't  capable  of 
it.  It's  just  that.  Some  things  are  impossible  to  some 
men,  and — and  murder  is  impossible  to  Lord  Gaunt !  " 

"  Then  who  did  it  ?  "  demanded   Thorpe,   with  a  hie- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  143 

cough.  "  Tell  me  that !  Isn't  the  evidence  against  him 
as  strong  as  can  be ! " 

Bobby  shook  his  head.  The  evidence  might  be  as  strong 
as  it  could  be,  and  yet  it  did  not  convince  him. 

After  he  had  seen  Thorpe  led  away  to  bed — speechless- 
ly drunk — he  left  the  house.  The  subtle,  familiar  per- 
fume in  the  room  seemed  to  follow  him,  and  the  dead 
woman's  face  and  voice  haunted  him. 

On  his  way  to  Lady  Pauline's  he  bought  the  second 
edition  of  an  evening  paper — no  evening  paper  ever  owns 
to  a  first  edition — and,  while  he  waited  in  the  drawing- 
room,  read  the  account.  "  The  Tragedy  at  Prince's  Man- 
sions ! "  it  was  headed,  and  there  were  "  scare  "  lines  at 
intervals  of  the  report. 

His  heart  sank  as  he  read  the  smooth  and  yet  graphic 
statement. 

The  murdered  woman  was,  as  it  set  forth,  the  wife  of 
Lord  Gaunt. .  Here  followed  all  his  names  and  titles. 
He  had  married  her,  with  a  suppression  of  his  rank,  and 
had,  very  soon  after  the  ceremony,  which  had  taken  place 
in  Switzerland,  separated  from  her,  going  on  the  travels 
which  had  made  him,  with  a  certain  section  of  the  public, 
famous.  The  deceased  lady  had  gone  to  his  rooms — 
whether  by  appointment  or  not,  the  report  could  not  say 
— and  it  was  proved  by  the  statement  of  the  servants 
that  she  had  met  Lord  Gaunt  in  these  rooms.  Lord  Gaunt 
had  been  seen  to  leave  them  without  his  overcoat ;  the 
murdered  woman  had  been  found  lying  dead  on  the  couch, 
and  covered  by  this  same  overcoat.  The  antique  dagger 
with  which  the  deed  had  been  committed  had  been  found 
lying  near  the  body.  Lord  Gaunt  had  disappeared. 

This  in  brief  was  the  substance  of  the  account,  although 
the  full  report  occupied  nearly  a  page  of  the  paper. 

Well  might  Bobby's  heart  sink  as  he  read  it.  His  own 
name,  and — alas  and  alas  ! — Decima's,  occurred  several 
times.  He  stifled  a  groan  and  crammed  the  paper  into  his 
pocket  as  Lady  Pauline  entered. 

"  Decima  is  still  unconscious  !  "  she  said.  She  was  calm 
and  self-possessed,  with  the  calmness  and  self-possession 
of  Christian  fortitude.  "  The  doctor  says  she  may— may 
live,  but  that  it  will  be  some  time  before  she  will  be  able 
to  tell  us  anything.  Is  there  any  later  news  ?  " 


144  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Bobby  produced,  the  paper. 

"  Yes :  I  have  read  it.  I  know — or,  rather,  I  know  of 
— Lord  Gaunt.  I  am  not  surprised  to  hear  that  he  is  mar- 
ried ;  nothing  I  could  hear  of  him  would  surprise  me  ;  but 
I  do  not  think  that  he  is  guilty — 

"  He  is  not !     He  is  not !  "  said  Bobby. 

Lady  Pauline  regarded  him  coldly. 

"  And  you  knew  this  unfortunate  woman  ?  "  she  said. 

Bobby  hung  his  head. 

"  I  will  not  reproach  you,  but  if  I  may  say  a  word  in 
season" 

"  There's  no  need,"  said  poor  Bobby.  "  Fm  punished 
badly  enough  as  it  is.  All  iny  thoughts  are  of  Decima. 
To  think  that  she  is  mixed  up  in  this  !  " 

Lady  Pauline  inclined  her  head  gravely. 

"  Who  is  Mr.  Mershon  ?  "  she  aske/L 

Bobby  started. 

"  Mr.  Mershon !  He  is  the  man  Decima  is  engaged  to," 
he  said. 

"  Please  write  to  him  that  I  wish  to  see  him,"  said  Lady 
Pauline.  "You  would  like  to  see  her?  She  will  not 
know  you ;  she  is  quite  unconscious." 

Bobby  went  up  to  Decima's  room,  and  gazed  at  her 
piteously,  as  he  had  done  before. 

As  he  left  the  house  the  special  editions  of  the  evening- 
papers  were  being  bawled  through  the  streets  and  the  rau- 
cous voices  of  the  newspaper  boys  were  shouting, "  'Orrible 
murder  !  Tragedy  in  'igh  life  !  " 

All  England  was  ringing  with  the  news  of  the  murder, 
and  the  consternation  and  excitement  in  Loamshire,  and 
round  about  Leafmore,  especially,  were  intense.  Crowds 
gathered  round  the  gates  of  Leafmore  and  stared  up  the 
avenue — Heaven  alone  knows  why  ! — as  if  they  expected 
to  glean  something  of  the  grim  tragedy  from  a  glimpse 
of  the  house. 

Bobby  had  wired  to  Bright,  and  he  had  dashed  off  with 
the  news  to  Mershon,  to  beg  him  to  help  break  it  to  Mr. 
Deane. 

Mershon  was  startled,  but  more  indignant  at  Decima's 
connection  with  the  affair  than  horrified  at  the  tragedy 
itself. 

"  Always  thought  there   was   something  queer  about 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  145 

Lord  Gaunt,"  he  said.  "  Yes,  he's  just  the  man  to  shoot 
or  stab  his  wife  if  he  didn't  like  her — I  beg  your  pardon," 
for  Bright  had  reddened  and  exclaimed  indignantly.  "  Of 
course  you  think  he's  innocent '?  " 

"How  could  I  think  otherwise?"  said  Bright,  warmly. 
"  Lord  Gaunt  is  not  guilty  !  " 

"  All  right,"  said  Mershon,  grimly,  and  with  a  shrug 
of  his  shoulders.  "  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  don't  very 
much  care  whether  he  is  or  whether  he  isn't — of  course, 
I  hope  he  isn't ;  what  I'm  thinking  about  is  Decima — Miss 
Deane.  What  I  want  to  know  is  :  Why  did  she  bolt  up 
to  town  and  why  did  she  go  round  to  his  rooms  ?  " 

"  Miss  Deane  went  to  see  her  brother,  I  imagine,"  said 
Bright.  "  She  could  not  know  that  Lord  Gaunt  would  be 
there — that  he  was  in  London.  None  of  us — not  even  I— 
have  known  anything  of  his  movements.  It  is  terrible 
that  Miss  Deane's  name  should  appear  in  the  affair." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  Mershon,  moodily.  "  It's  jolly 
hard  on  me,  I  know  !  " 

"I  am  going  round  to  Mr.  Deane  to  tell  him,"  said 
Bright.  "  Will  you  come  with  me  ?  I  shall  go  straight 
from  there  to  London,  of  course.  Lord  Gaunt  will  want 
me,  and  if  he  did  not " 

"  I'll  go  with  you,"  said  Mershon. 

He  accompanied  Bright,  and  ordered  the  carriage  to 
follow  them  to  the  Woodbines. 

They  found  Mr.  Deane  in  the  laboratory,  and  broke  the 
news.  He  was  startled  but  by  no  means  overwhelmed, 
though  distressed  in  a  confused  and  bewildered  way  at 
the  fact  that  Decima  was  concerned  in  the  matter  and  was 
ill. 

"  I  am  thankful  she  is  with  Lady  Pauline,"  he  said. 
"  It— it  would  be  of  little  use  my  going  up  to  her — 

He  glanced  wistfully  at  the  ridiculous  model  he  was  at 
work  upon. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mershon,  gnawing  at  his  cigar.  "  I'm 
going  ;  you'd  better  leave  it  to  me.  The  old  fool  doesn't 
realize  it,"  he  said  to  Bright,  as  they  passed  out.  "  He 
doesn't  see  that  this  will  bring  a  lot  of/scandal  upon  my 
head." 

The  following  morning  Mershon  presented  himself  at 
Lady  Pauline's. 


146  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Her  first  thought  as  she  looked  at  him  was,  "How  does 
it  happen  that  Decima — my  Decima — is  engaged  to  this 
man  !  "  For  Mr.  Mershou,  pale  and  sullen  with  anxiety 
and  resentment  at  the  state  of  things,  was  not  pivp< 
ing,  and  Lady  Pauline's  cold  and  stately  manner  of  re- 
ceiving" him  did  not  tend  to  put  him  at  his  ease. 

"  My  niece  is  very  ill,  Mr.  Mershou,"  she  said,  as  she 
motioned  him  to  a  chair ;  "  very  ill,  indeed.  But  you  have, 
no  doubt,  heen  informed  ?  " 

"  It  she  too  ill  to  see  me  ?  "  he  broke  in. 

"Much  too  ill,"  replied  Lady  Pauline,  "and — I  think  it 
best  to  be  quite  candid,  Mr.  Mershon — even  if  she  were 
well  enough,  I  do  not  think  the  interview  would  be  desir- 
able." 

"Not — not  desirable?"  he  repeated,  staring  at  her. 
"  Why — why,  she's  engaged  to  me  !  " 

"  She  was,  so  she  has  informed  me,"  said  Lady  Pauline. 

"  Was !  "  echoed  Mershon.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  I 
don't  understand !  " 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come  to  see  me  so  soon,"  she  said. 
"It  is  only  right  that  you  should  know,  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment,  that  my  niece  desires  to  withdraw  from 
her  engagement  to  you,  Mr.  Mershon." 

Mershon  started  from  his  chair  and  reddened. 

"  Wants  to— to  break  it  off  ! "  he  said,  huskily.  "  Why  ? 
Why  should  she  want  to  break  it  off  ?  " 

With  her  usual  directness  and  strict  regard  for  truth, 
Lady  Pauline  answered,  gravely  : 

"  My  niece  does  not  love  you." 

Mershon's  pallor  was  startling.  Then  he  laughed 
uneasily. 

"  I  think  I  understand !  "  he  said.  "  She — she  thinks 
this  scandal — that  I  shall  be  angry  and  cut  up  about  it. 
Well,  so  I  am,  but  it  won't  make  any  difference  to  me,  of 
course.  I  don't  like  it ;  no  man  would  like  to  have  his 
future  wife  mixed  up  with  such  an  awful  business  as 
this;  and — and  some  fellows  would  want  to  drawback; 
but  I'm  not  that  kind  of  a  man.  Tell  Decie  that  I  stand 
by  my  word ;  yes,  that  I  say  that  even  now,  Avhen  I  don't 
know  why  she  went  to  Gaunt's  rooms,  or  whether  she 
expected  to  see  him  or  not.  Just  tell  her  that,  Lady 
Pauline." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  147 

Lady  Pauline  rose.  The  man's  vulgarity  and  mean- 
ness simply  amazed  her.  Why — why  had  Decima  prom- 
ised to  marry  a  person  who  was  not  even  a  gentleman  ? 

"I  will  tell  my  niece  what  you  say,  certainly,"  she  said. 
"  But  it  may  be  some  time  before  she  is  well  enough  to 
receive  your  message,  and  I  think  I  may  assure  you  that 
it  will  not  have  the  effect  upon  her  which  you  expect  and 
desire.  She  will  not  marry  you,  Mr. -Mershon." 

He  reddened  and  plucked  at  his  gloves. 

"  She — she  was  off  her  head — she  didn't  know  what 
she  was  saying  when  she  told  you  she  wanted  to"  break 
off  the  engagement,"  he  stammered. 

"  On  the  contrary,  she  was  quite  conscious,  and  her 
words  were  perfectly  lucid  and  final,"  said  Lady  Pauline. 
"I  fear  I- cannot  remain  away  from  her  any  longer,  31  r. 
Mershon." 

She  rose  and  Mershon,  almost  too  furious  to  mutter 
the  conventional  adieu,  left  the  house. 

Had  there  been  anything  between  Decima  and  Gaunt? 
he  asked  himself.  His  jealousy  rose  and  tore  at  him 
vulture  fashion  as  he  thought  of  Gaunt's  and  Decima 's 
friendship,  of  the  way  in  which  she  had  helped  to  restore 
the  Hall,  and  carry  out  Bright's  plans.  And  then,  she 
had  come  up  to  London  all  of  a  sudden,  and  had  gone  to 
Gaunt's  rooms  !  A  fierce  hatred  and  suspicion  of  Gaunt 
took  possession  of  him. 

He  went  straight  to  his  lawyer — a  sharp  city  attorney, 
who  had  acted  for  Mershon  in  many  risky  cases. 

"  Terrible  affair  this,  Mr.  Mershon,"  he  began,  for  he 
knew  of  Mershon's  engagement  to  Miss  Deane,  who  was 
mixed  up  in  the  "  Murder  in  Prince's  Mansions,"  and  he 
suspected  that  Mershon  had  come  to  consult  him,  and  he 
was  right. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mershon,  abruptly.  "  Look  here,  Gilsby ; 
I'm  in  this,  after  a  fashion.  I  want  you  to  act  for  me. 
Of  course  this  fellow,  Lord  Gaunt,  is  the  murderer." 

Mr.  Gilsby  looked  rather  startled. 

"  Well — the  evidence " 

"Is  enough  to  hang  any  man,"  broke  in  Mershon. 
"  When's  the  inquest  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  I  should  imagine  ;  I  can  ascertain." 

"  Do  so.     And  see  here,  brief  one  of  the  sharpest  com- 


148  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

mon-law  barristers  ;  get  the  best  Old  Bailey  man  3*011  cau ; 
let  him  represent  me  at  the  inquest."1 

M  r.  Gilsby  nodded  and  waited. 

"  If  that  man  Gaunt  did  it  he  ought  not  to  get  off," 
continued  Mershon,  avoiding  the  lawyer's  eyes.  -  lie's  a 
swell,  a  '  noble  lord,'  and  all  that,  and  they — his  friends — 
will  move  heaven  and  earth  to  get  him  off.  Xow,  I  say 
that  it  would  be  a  miscarriage  of  justice  if  they  suc- 
ceeded. A  man  who'd  stab  a  woman  in  cold  blood  is — er 
— er — ought  to  be  hanged." 

"Certainly,  certainly!"  assented  Mr.  Gilsby.  "But 
you  need  have  no  fear,  Mr.  Mershon  ;  the  Treasury  will 
prosecute " 

"  I  know  all  that,  d n  it ! "  broke  in  Mershon, 

fiercely.  "  But  I  want  to  help.  Get  the  best  man  you 
can,  and  let  him  appear  at  the  inquest,  and — and  see  that 
there's  no  attempt  to  hoodwink  and  bamboozle  the  jury. 
See  ?  " 

The  sharp  city  attorney  did  see.  He  nodded,  and  rang 
a  bell. 

"  Boskett  is  your  man,  Mr.  Mershon."  he  said,  quietly. 
"  I'll  brief  him.  And  you  think  Lord  Gaunt  is  guilcy  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  of  it,"  snapped  Mershon.  "  I'm  staying  at 
the  Grand,"  he  added,  as  he  flung  on  his  hat  and  left  the 
office. 

Mr.  Gilsby  looked  at  the  closed  door  thoughtfully.  It 
opened  again  suddenly  and  Mr.  Mershon  once  more  strode 
in. 

"  You've  got  all  those  bills  of  Mr.  Deane's,  haven't  you  ?  " 
he  inquired. 

«  Yes." 

"  Right.  I  may  want  to  recover  on  them.  May  want 
to  do  so  all  in  a  hurry.  If  I  wire  •  Act,'  you'll  drop 
down  on  Deane.  See  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  inquest  was  held  on  the  following  day.  The 
room  was  crowded  with  lawyers,  reporters,  and  as  many 
of  the  curious  public  whicli  could  force  and  squeeze  their 
way  in.  Not  for  many  years  had  so  sensational  and  "  in- 


PIER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  149 

teresting  "  a  murder  been  committed,  and  the  world  was 
watching  the  development  of  events,  and  waiting  for 
every  detail,  with  an  eagerness  which  even  the  most  en- 
terprising of  the  newspapers  conld  not  satisfy.  And 
some  of  them,  it  must  be  admitted,  had  done  their  best. 
Short  and  charmingly  inaccurate  biographies  of  Lord 
Gaunt  had  appeared,  together  with  portraits  hideously 
unlike  him. 

Some  of  the  sketches  of  his  life  represented  him  as  a 
man  who  had  spent  most  of  his  days  in  the  society  of 
savages,  and  was  therefore  just  the  man  to  commit  a 
peculiarly  ferocious  murder. 

Bobby  and  Bright  had  almost  to  fight  their  way  into 
the  room,  and  it  was  some  minutes  before  they  could 
reach  the  solicitor's  table,  where  Mr.  Pelford,  the  head  of 
the  firm  of  Gaunt's  lawyers,  was  sitting  beside  the  famous 
counsel,  Sir  James  Letson,  whom  Pelford  &  Lang  had 
retained. 

Mr.  Pelford  nodded  to  Bright. 

"  We've  got  Sir  James,  you  see,  Mr.  Bright,"  he  said, 
in  a  hurried  undertone.  "  And  everything  will  be  done 
that  can  be  done  for  Lord  Gaunt ;  but " — he  shook  his 
head  gravely — "  the  case  looks  very  bad.  Do  you  see  that 
Mr.  Boskett  is  here  ?  "  he  glanced  toward  that  eminent 
gentleman.  "  lie  appears  for  Miss  Deane." 

Bobby  started. 

"  I — I  did  not  engage  him,"  he  said.  "  I  never  thought 
of  it ! " 

"  He  is  instructed  by  Mr.  Gilsby,"  said  Mr.  Pelford,  in 
rather  a  dry  voice.  "He  is  Mr.  Mershon's  solicitor.  Mr. 
Mershon  is  just  behind  that  partition — you  cannot  see  him 
from  here.  Yes,  the  case  looks  serious  but —  Well,  Sir 
James  will  do  all  that  can  be  done,  rest  assured." 

After  the  usual  preliminaries,  the  police  began  to  call 
their  witnesses,  and  as  one  after  the  other  appeared  and 
told  his  or  her  story  Mr.  Bright's  anxious  face  grew  more 
a-xious  and  careworn.  Brick  by  brick,  as  it  were,  the 
solicitor  for  the  Treasury  was  building  up  the  case  against 
Lord  Gaunt. 

First  came  the  page,  who  told  how  he  had  let  in,  first, 
Miss  Deane ;  then  Jane,  who  had  admitted  Lord  Gaunt 
and  the  deceased. 


150  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Is  Miss  Deane  here  ?  "  asked  the  coroner. 

Mr.  Boskett  rose  with  the  leisurely  air  which  masked 
his  terrible  keenness. 

"•  I  appear  for  Miss  Deane,  sir,"  he  said.- 

"  I  doubt  your  locus  standi"  interrupted  the  coroner, 
"  but  go  on." 

«  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Boskett.  "  I  have  at  present 
only  to  state  that  Miss  Deane  is  very  ill,  and  quite  unable 
to  be  here.  She  is,  in  fact,  unconscious,  and  I  produce  the 
doctor's  certificate." 

He  handed  it  in  and  sat  down.  The  coroner  read  it 
and  nodded  gravely  for  the  witness  to  proceed. 

Jane  told  her  story  very  well.  She  had  taken  tea  in 
for  Miss  Deane,  and  she  had  not  seen  her  since.  She  was 
there  in  the  room  when  Lord  Gaunt  had  entered,  and 
Jane  had  heard  their  voices  talking  together.  Then  the 
deceased  had  arrived.  No,  she  did  not  usher  her  into  the 
drawing-room.  The  lady  inquired  for  Mr.  Deane,  and, 
on  being  told  that  he  was  not  In,  she  had  said  she  would 
go  and  sit  down  and  wait  for  him,  and  as  .she  knew  the 
way,  Jane  need  not  trouble.  She  had  not  seen  the  de- 
ceased and  Lord  Gaunt  together,  but  she  had  heard  them 
talking,  and  once — here  she  hesitated,  but  only  for  a  mo- 
ment— they  were  speaking  so  loudly,  there  was  a  kind  of 
cry — that  she  knocked  at  the  door,  thinking  she  was 
called. 

She  had  not 'entered.  A  little  later — it  might  have 
been  half  an  hour — Lord  Gaunt  had  come  dovm  the  corri- 
dor from  one  of  the  other  rooms,  and  passed  her,  on  his 
way  out.  She  was  talking  to  the  porter  in  the  lift. 
Lord  Gaunt  had  no  overcoat.  She  had  felt  ashamed  at 
being  caught  gossiping,  and  had  run  away  into  the  kitchen. 
No  one  else  came  that  night.  They  waited  for  Mr.  Deane 
until  past  eleven,  then  went  to  bed.  She  had  looked  into 
the  room  to  see  to  the  fire,  but  had  not  noticed  any  one 
there,  or  seen  anything  unusual.  In  the  morning  she 
found  the  deceased  lying  on  the  couch  as  the  doctor  had 
described.  She  was  dead,  there  was  a  wound  above  her 
heart,  and  the  dagger  which  the  policeman  showed  her 
now  was  lying  on  the  floor.  The  portrait  was  lying 
smashed  in  the  fireplace.  The  deceased  was  covered  1/v 
a  fur  coat.  Yes,  it  was  the  master's,  Lord  Gaunt ;  but 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  151 

she  was  certain,  quite,  quite  certain,  that  he  could  not 
have  done  it ! 

The  coroner  stopped  her  with  uplifted  hand.  The  solici- 
tor for  the  Treasury  asked  a  few  questions  of  small  details, 
and  then  Sir  James  rose. 

"  You  heard  no  cry  for  help,  no  screaming  or  shriek- 
ing ?  " 

"  Xo,  sir  !  Only  the  poor  lady  talking  loudly.  Lord 
Gaunt's  voice  was  quiet  like." 

"  The  deceased  asked  for  Mr.  Deane  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  the  deceased  before  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Jane.  "  She  had  dined  with  Mr.  Deane 
at  a  dinner  party,  with  Mr.  Thorpe  and  Mr.  Trevor."  Xo, 
she  had  never  before  seen  Lord  Gaunt  with  the  deceased. 
Did  not  know  that  he  was  married — didn't  quite  believe  it 
even  now. 

Mr.  Boskett  got  up,  and  in  the  softest  and  blandest  of 
voices,  asked : 

"  Xow,  will  you  tell  us — don't  be  afraid  ! — you  heard 
voices  at  various  times  that  evening  ?  Did  you  hear  Miss 
Deane's  voice  after — mind,  after — the  deceased  had  en- 
tered the  room  ?  " 

"  Xo,"  said  Jane.  "  There  were  only  two  voices  after 
that,  the  deceased's  and  Lord  Gaunt's." 

"  And  you  did  not  see  Miss  Deane  leave  the  Mansions  ? 
She  might  have  left  a  few  minutes  after  the  deceased  had 
entered  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  think  she  must,  because  I  didn't  see  her 
go  afterward,  and,  of  course,  I  was  waiting  to  be  rung  for 
to  let  the  visitors  out  as  usual." 

"  And  Miss  Deane  asked  for  her  brother,  and  not  for 
Lord  Gaunt  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir.  I'm  sure  the  young  lady  doesn't  know 
anything  about  it.  She  is  the  sweetest " 

The  coroner  stopped  her  again,  and  Mr.  Boskett,  with 
an  encouraging  smile,  and  a  glance  at  the  jury,  murmured 
audibly : 

"  Xo  one  suspects  her  !  " 

Then  aloud  he  said  : 

"  Xow,  tell  me.  You  found  the  inner  door  of  the 
drawing-room  locked  ?  On  the  bedroom  side  ?  " 


152  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"And  no  one  entered  the  drawing-room,  so  far  as 
you  know,  after  the  deceased  ?  You  must  have  heard 
them " 

Sir  James  rose. 

"  Really,  that  is  scarcely  a  fair  question  !  "  he  said. 

"  WQ  want  all  the  information  we  can  get,"  remarked 
Mr.  Boskett,  blandly. 

The  coroner  nodded  and  Jane  said  : 

"  No  ;  no  one  had  come  in  afterwards." 

"  And  now,  did  you  notice  anything  peculiar  in  Lord 
Gaunt's  manner  when  he  passed  you  in  the  corridor  on 
his  way  out  ?  " 

Jane  hesitated, 

"  His  lordship  looked  upset  and — and  worried,  sir." 

"  Anything  peculiar  about  his  dress  ?     Think." 

"  She  knows  something,"  whispered  Mr.  Pelford  to  Sir 
James. 

Sir  James  did  not  move  a  muscle.  Jane  hesitated  and 
looked  distressed. 

"  Come,  speak  out,"  said  Mr.  Boskett,  gently  and  per- 
suasively, and  Jane,  with  a  kind  of  sob,  said : 

"  There — there  was  blood  on  his  wristband." 

A  thrill  ran  through  the  crowd.  Mr.  Boskett  glanced 
at  the  jury  in  a  casual  kind  of  way. 

The  porter  was  next  called,  and  gave  his  evidence 
clearly.  So  far  as  he  knew,  no  one  had  entered  Lord 
Gaunt's  flat  after  the  deceased. 

Yes ;  Lord  Gaunt  had  looked  haggard  and  upset,  and 
he,  the  porter,  had  noticed  the  blood  stain  on  the  wrist- 
band. 

So  also  had  Wilkins,  the  butler,  from  Merlet's.  He 
carried  the  grim  story  a  point  further  by  telling  how  he 
had  sent  on  the  luggage  to  Southampton,  but  had  heard 
Lord  Gaunt,  when  leaving  in  the  morning,  direct  the  cab- 
man to  drive  to  Charing  Cross.  Had  remarked  that 
Lord  Gaunt  did  not  wear  his  fur  coat  when  he  returned 
the  preceding  night,  and  had  been  informed  by  Lord 
Gaunt  that  he  had  left  it  at  his  club. 

The  crowd  exchanged  glances  and  murmured  signifi- 
cantly. 

Then  Mr.  Morgan  Thorpe  was  called.     He  was  a  pit- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  153 

eons  spectacle.  His  usually  pleasant  and  youthful  face 
was  haggard  and  drawn ;  his  eyelids  were  swollen,  and 
his  lips  tremulous  and  pale.  He  had  been  drinking,  but 
not  enough  to  steady  his  shaking  hands  and  voice.  As 
he  raised  his  eyes  and  glanced  round  the  court  with  a 
shrinking  look,  Bobby  could  scarcely  believe  that  it  was 
the  same  man  who  only  a  few  days  ago  had  swaggered  and 
riffled  it  with  such  self-assurance.  Every  answer  had  to 
be  dragged  out  of  him.  Yes,  the  deceased  was  his  sister. 
She  was  married  secretly  to  Lord  Gaunt,  who  married 
her  under  the  name  of  Barnard.  Had  not  known  Bar- 
nard's real  name  and  title.  His  sister  and  her  husband 
had  separated  soon  after  the  marriage,  and  she  had  lived 
with  him,  the  brother,  since  that  time.  Her  husband  had 
disappeared,  quite  disappeared.  She  had  not  seen  him  to 
his,  Morgan  Thorpe's  knowledge,  between  the  hour  of 
their  parting  and  the  night  of  the  murder 

Sir  James  looked  up. 

"  Do  not  use  the  word  '  murder,'  Mr.  Thorpe,"  he  said 
sharply ;  "  the  jury  have  not  yet  given  their  verdict." 

Morgan  Thorpe  glared  at  him  resentfully. 

"  It  was  murder — foul  and  cowardly  murder 

"  Silence  !  "  said  the  coroner,  sternly.  "  Confine  your- 
self to  a  statement  of  what  you  actually  know." 

Sir  James  rose. 

"  You  say,  Mr.  Thorpe,  that  so  far  as  you  are  aware 
your  sister  did  not  know  the  whereabouts  of  Lord 
Gaunt  ?  " 

"  She  did  not — I  swear  it." 

"  You  knew  she  was  going  to  Prince's  Mansions  the 
night  of  the  6th  ?  " 

Thorpe  hesitated.  Could  he  venture  to  deny  it  ?  A£ 
he  paused,  Sir  James  carelessly  picked  up  a  blue  paper 
from  the  table,  and  Morgan  Thorpe's  eyes  dropped. 

"  I  knew  it." 

Sir  James  handed  him  the  bill. 

"  This  was  found  in  the  pocket  of  the  deceased.  It  is 
a  bill,  unsigned,  for  two  hundred  pounds.  Can  you  ex- 
plain it?" 

Thorpe  glanced  at  Bobby,  and  his  face  went  white. 

"  My — my  poor  sister  was  in  want  of  money.  She — - 
she  thought  Mr.  Deane  would  lend  it  to  her " 


154  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

His  voice  grew  inaudible.  Bobby  hung  his  head  as 
every  eye  in  court  was  directed  to  him. 

"  May  I  take  it  that  you  sent  her  on  this  errand  ?  "  .said 
Sir  James. 

Morgan  Thorpe  raised  his  head  and  stared  at  him  in- 
solently. 

"  You  may  take  it  as  you  please,"  he  said,  defiantly. 

"  That  is  sufficient,"  said  Sir  James,  gravely. 

Mr.  Boskett  rose. 

"  One  moment,  Mr.  Thorpe.  Were  you  aware  of  the 
real  name  and  rank  of  the  deceased's  husband?  Oh, 
don't  hesitate,  please !  "  he  added,  with  the  first  note  of 
sharpness  in  his  voice,  and  Thorpe  nodded. 

"  Yes  ?  And  you  kept  your  knowledge  from  your 
sister  ?  " 

Thorpe  looked  round  like  a  hunted  animal  seeking  for 
some  means  of  escape. 

« I— I  did.     I  thought  it  best." 

Mr.  Boskett  turned  his  glittering  eyes  upon  him. 

"Did  not  Lord  Gaunt  undertake  to  pay  you  a  sum  of 
money  to  keep  his  identity  secret  ?  Answer,  please." 

The  reply  was  scarcely  audible. 

"  Good.  Now,  Mr.  Thorpe,  you  remember  a  certain 
scandal  in  Paris  in  the  summer  of  18 — .  A  scandal  in 
which  a  lady  was  concerned.  AVas  not  that  lady  your 
sister  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Morgan  Thorpe,  and  Mr.  Boskett  turned  to 
the  jury. 

"I  regret  to  have  to  allude  to  this  matter,  but  I  desire 
to  show  the  cause  of  Lord  Gaunt's  desertion  of  his 

wife " 

»"  Not  desertion  ! "  said  Sir  James,  quickly. 

"  Separation,  if  you  like ! "  said  Mr.  Boskett.  "  In  a 
word,  Mr.  Thorpe,  did  not  Lord  Gaunt  separate  from  his 
wife  because  he  discovered  certain  facts  in  connection 
with  her  life  before  her  marriage  ?  " 

Morgan  Thorpe  moistened  his  lips. 

"  If  any  one  has  been  saying — "  he  began,  but  the  coro- 
ner interrupted  him. 

"  Painful  as  this  question  must  be  to  you,  Mr.  Thorpe, 
you  must  answer  it." 

"  Well,  yes — so  he  said,"  replied  Thorpe. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  155 

"  And  these  facts  you  concealed  from  him  ?  Did  you 
conceal  from  him  this  other  fact,  that  j^ou  had  suffered 
three  months'  imprisonment  for  fraud,  committed  faro 
years  before  you  made  his  acquaintance  ?  " 

"  Where  did  he  get  all  this  ?  "  asked  Sir  James,  testily, 
of  Mr.  Pelford,  while  the  court  was  waiting  on  Thorpe's 
reply. 

"  If  I  am  to  submit  to  have  all  my  past  life  raked  up 
for  the  amusement  of  a  crowd — "  panted  Morgan  Thorpe. 

"  Answer,  sir  ! "  said  the  coroner,  sternly,  and  Thorpe's 
livid  lips  formed  the  "  Yes." 

"  Did  you  conceal  the  identity  of  her  husband  and  his 
whereabouts  from  the  deceased  because  you  feared  his 
violence  if  they  should  meet?"  asked  Mr.  Boskett,  in 
gentle  tones. 

It  was  scarcely  a  permissible  question,  and  Sir  James 
was  on  his  feet  in  a  moment,  but  Thorpe  had  got  his  an- 
swer out  before  he  could  be  stopped. 

"  Yes  :  I  did !  "  he  said,  with  a  suppressed  eagerness. 
"  Gaunt  was  a  violent  man.  One  of  the  hottest-tempered 
men  I  have  ever  met.  I  wanted  to  protect  my  poor 
sister " 

The  coroner  stopped  him,  but  it  was  too  late.  The  jury 
had  got  the  impression  Mr.  Boskett  had  desired  to  give 
them. 

"  I  have  finished  with  you,"  he  said,  with  that  air  of 
satisfaction  which  a  clever  counsel  can  make  so  telling. 

One  or  two  other  witnesses  were  called,  and  the  two 
doctors  who  had  been  summoned  after  the  discovery  of 
the  body  were  recalled  by  Mr.  Boskett. 

"  I  wish  to  ask  these  gentleman  a  question,  sir,"  he 
said  to  the  coroner.  "  The  young  lady,  Miss  Deane,  who  is 
now,  I  regret  to  say,  lying  unconscious,  and  seriously  ill, 
is  unfortunately  connected  with  this  case  by  one  of  those 
accidents  to  which  we  are  all  liable.  I  do  not  think  that 
the  slightest  suspicion  has  been  directed  toward  her  ;  but, 
nevertheless — perhaps  because  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  pro- 
tect her  from  any  future  suspicion — I  desire  to  ask  a 
question  on  her  behalf.  I  ask  you,  sir,"  he  turned  to  the 
first  doctor,  "  if,  in  your  opinion,  it  would  be  possible  for  a 
young  girl  to  have  lifted  and  placed  the  body  on  the  couch, 
as  it  was  discovered  ?  " 


156  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Xo,  certainly  not,*'  Avas  the  reply,  and  the  second  doctor 
repeated  the  ansAver. 

Then  the  coroner  wound  up,  and,  as  with  the  skill  of 
experience  he  linked  the  evidence  together,  Bright  and 
Bobby  felt  as  if  a  chain  were  being  Avound  round  (Taunt. 
The  crowd  listened  Avith  breathless  attention  to  every 
Avord,  and  when  he  had  finished,  turned  their  eyes  upon  the 
jury  with  hungry  impatience. 

The  jury  did  not  leave  the  box,  but  gathered  together, 
and  whispered  for  a  few  moments,  then  pronounced  the 
verdict. 

They  found  "  Edward  Barnard  Gaunt,  Earl  of  Gaunt, 
guilty  of  the  wilful  murder  of  his  wife  Laura." 

Mr.  Bright  rose,  Avhite  and  trembling ;  Bobby  let  his 
head  fall  in  his  hands.  Some  one  touched  him  on  the  arm, 
and,  looking  up,  he  saw  Mershon  beside  him.  He  was 
pale,  saA7e  for  a  red  spot  on  each  cheek,  and  his  small  eyes 
shone  vindictively. 

"  A  clear  case,"  he  said,  Avith  a  note  of  satisfaction  in 
his  thin  A'oice.  "  He  did  it  right  enough.  And  they'll 
have  him  presently.  They've  cabled  to  stop  the  ship  at 
the  Canaries." 

Bobby  shrank  from  him  Avith  a  look  of  horror. 

"  I — I  don't  believe  it,"  he  said,  his  voice  breaking. 
"  Gaunt  is  as  innocent  as — as  I  am." 

Mershon  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  All  right !  Let  him  come  home  and  proAre  it !  "  he 
said,  sullenly. 

He  went  oArer  to  Mr.  Gilsby,  Avho  Avas  talking  to 
Mr.  Boskett — Mr.  Boskett  cheerfully  triumphant — and 
clutched  him  nerA'ously  by  the  arm. 

"  They'll  get  him,  eh,  Gilsby  ?  He  can't  escape,  can 
he  ?  " 

Mr.  Gilsby  smiled  assuringly. 

"  Oh,  no,  certainly  not.  Quite  impossible.  You  may 
make  your  mind  easy  on  that  point,  Mr.  Mershon.  They'll 
bring  him  back  in  a  feAV  days." 

Mershon  drew  a  breath  of  satisfaction,  and  hurried  out 
of  court. 

Mr.  Boskett  glanced  after  him,  and  raised  his  eyebrows 
questioningly. 

Mr.  Gilsby  smiled. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Both  fond  of  i.  Deaue,"  he  said  answering  the 

unspoken  question.  '•  You'll  bitterly  disappoint  my  client 
i  fail  to  get  a  conviction,  Mr.  Boskett.  But  that's  a 
certainty,  I  supp' 

Mr.  Boskett  only  smiled  in  reply. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  Pevensey  Castle  went  on  her  way.  There  were  a 
number  of  passengers,  and  the  usual  amusements  and 
entertainments  were  arranged  and  successfully  carried 
out ;  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  laughter  and  merry- 
making on  board  the  big  ship. 

But  Gaunt  took  no  part  in  the  quoit  playing,  the  con- 
certs or  the  dances.  He  craved  for  solitude,  and  he 
avoided  his  fellow-passengers  and  spent  most  of  his  time 
in  solitary  pacing  of  the  least  frequented  part  of  the  deck 
or  shut  up  in  his  cabin. 

emed  to  him  as  if  his  heart  would  never  cease  to 
ache  with  the  longing  for  the  girl-love  whom  he  had  so 
nearly  wronged,  and  whom  he  should  never  see  again. 
Decima  was  always  before  him,  always  in  his  thought, 
and  as  he  imagined — and  he  could  so  easily  picture  it ! — 
her  sorrow  and  horror  at  his  conduct,  he  felt  almost  too 
lied  to  live. 

And  yet  he  had  not  sinned  wilfully.  He  had  gone  to 
Scotland  to  avoid  her  ;  he  had  been  on  his  way  to  Africa 
to  put  a  still  greater  distance  between  them,  when  Fate 
had  led  her  to  his  rooms  ! 

There  was  one  other  passenger  who  took  no  part  hi  the 
pastimes  of  the  vessel — this  was  Mr.  Jackson. 

He,  like  Gaunt,  spent  his  time  pacing  the  deck,  but  in 
another  part  than  that  which  Gaunt  so  restk  - 
But  when  down  below  Mr.  Jackson  did  not  confine  him- 
self to  his  cabin,  though  he  spent  some  time  there.  He 
was  very  often  in  the  smoking  saloon,  or  in  the  purser's 
canteen  ;  and  there  was  always  a  glass  of  champagne  or 
brandy-ancl-soda  before  him.  He  drank  a  great  deal,  but 
he  was  never  intoxicated ;  indeed,  liquor  seemed  to  take 
little  or  no  effect  upon  him. 

For  some  days  he  avoided  his  fellow-passengers,  only 


1«8  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

speaking  when  lie  was  obliged,  and  then  only  in  monosyl- 
lables. People  on  board  a  ship  are  always  curious  about 
their  fellow- voyagers,  and  there  was  a  general  idea  that 
Mr.  Jackson  had  lost  all  his  money  in  Africa  ;  but  this 
idea  was  dropped  when  Mr.  Jackson  one  evening  joined 
the  inevitable  card  party,  and  took  a  hand  at  poker. 

He  played  every  night ;  indeed,  whenever  play  was 
going  on,  and  he  did  not  seem  to  care  how  high  the  stakes 
Avere.  Xor  did  he  seem  to  care  very  much  whether  he 
won  or  lost. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  he  added  much  to  the  geniality 
of  the  party,  for  he  rarely  spoke,  and  never  laughed  or 
even  smiled.  The  other  players  regarded  him  rather 
curiously,  and  with  a  certain  amount  of  doubt,  for  there 
was  something  peculiar  and  uncanny  about  his  manner 
and  appearance.  His  face  was  so  unnaturally  pale,  his 
eyes  so  unpleasantly  red  and  bloodshot,  and  he  had  a 
singular  trick  of  looking  up  suddenly  in  the  midst  of  a 
game  with  a  vacant  stare,  as  if  he  were  seeing  something, 
or  hearing  something,  that  was  not  perceptible  to  the 
others,  and  once  or  twice  he  had  laid  down  his  cards  and 
risen  from  his  chair  as  if  he  had  forgotten  that  the  game 
was  in  progress. 

"  Our  friend,  Mr.  Jackson,  has  something  on  his  mind," 
remarked  one  of  the  players  one  evening,  after  Jackson 
had  left  the  saloon.  He  had  walked  out  with  a  perfectly 
unmoved  countenance,  as  impassive  as  a  stone  mask,  though 
he  had  won  a  considerable  sum. 

"It's  drink,  I  think,"  said  another.  "He  drinks  like  a 
fish.  Why,  how  many  glasses  do  you  think  he's  put 
down  while  he's  been  sitting  ho; 

•'  And  the  extraordinary  thing  is  that  it  never  seems  to 
have  any  effect  on  him,"  remarked  a  third.  "  Why,  most 
of  us  would  have  been  under  the  table  if  we  had  drunk 
half  that  young  fellow  has  mopped  up !  You  meet  some 
queer  characters  on  board  a  ship,  don't  you  ?  " 

Now  and  again  Gaunt  met  or  came  across  Mr.  Jackson 
and  Jackson  would  always  eye  him  sideways  and  give  him 
a  nod,  which  Gaunt  returned  in  an  absent-minded  way. 
One  evening  Gaunt  was  pacing  up  and  down  on  his 
favorite  part  of  the  deck,  thinking,  of  course,  of  Deeima, 
when  he  saw  Jackson  coming  toward  him.  The  moon 


PIER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  159 

was  shining  brightly,  and  Gaunt  could  see  the  young  fel- 
low's face  quite  plainly.  It  was  working  spasmodically  ; 
the  lips  were  moving  as  if  he  were  talking  to  himself,  and 
his  hands  were  clenched  at  his  side.  Gaunt  stopped,  half 
mechanically,  and  in  the  shadow  of  a  deckhouse  absently 
watched  the  man. 

Jackson  brought  up  his  walk  within  a  few  yards  of 
Gaunt,  and,  leaning  over  the  vessel's  side,  stared  out  to 
sea  with  bloodshot  eyes.  Suddenly  he  put  one  foot  on 
the  gunwale,  then,  clinging  with  his  hand  to  a  stanchion, 
drew  up  the  other  foot  and  stood  in  imminent  danger 
of  falling  over. 

It  looked  to  Gaunt  as  if  the  man  were  meditating 
suicide,  and  Gaunt  sprang  forward,  seized  him  by  the  arm 
and  dragged  him  down  to  the  deck. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  he  asked. 

Mr.  Jackson  eyed  him  vacantly  for  a  moment,  then  he 
said,  without  a  smile  : 

"  I  wanted  to  see  if  I  could  stand  there  without  falling 
over." 

"  Rather  a  dangerous  experiment,  wasn't  it  ? "  said 
Gaunt. 

Jackson  looked  up  at  him  with  a  kind  of  sullen  defiance. 

"  Anyhow,  it's  no  business  of  yours !  "  he  said. 

Gaunt  smiled  grimly. 

"  I  suppose  not,"  he  said.  "  But  I  am  not  sure.  If  I 
had  allowed  you  to  fall  over,  you  would  in  all  probability 
have  been  drowned,  and  I  should  have  been  accessory  to 
your  suicide.  I  might  have  been  charged  with  your 
murder." 

At  the  word  "  murder  "  Mr.  Jackson  started  and  shud- 
dered, and  looked  at  Gaunt  with  a  half-suspicious,  half- 
angry  stare. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Exactly  what  I  say,"  said  Gaunt. 

He  saw  that  the  young  fellow  had  been  drinking,  and 
a  kind  of  pity  stole  into  Gaunt's  breast ;  his  own  sorrow 
made  him  very  tender  toward  the  weakness  and  folly  of 
his  fellow-men. 

"  Better  go  down  to  your  cabin,"  he  said,  "  and  don't 
drink  any  more  to-night." 

"  I'm  not  drunk,"  said  Jackson,  sullenly. 


160  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  No,  but  you've  had  enough,"  said  Gaunt. 

There  was  a  touch  of  sympathy  in  his  tone,  which  ap- 
peared to  affect  the  young  fellow. 

"  I'm  devilish  wretched,"  he  said. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  remarked  Gaunt,  "  if  all  the  men 
who  were  '  devilish  wretched  '  flung  themselves  into  the 
sea,  how  many  passengers  do  you  think  would  remain  on 
board  the  Pevensey  Castle  ?  " 

Jackson  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"  You  don't  look  particularly  cheerful,"  he  said. 

Gaunt  froze  instantly. 

"  Better  go  down  to  your  cabin,"  he  said.  "  I  will  see 
you  down." 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right,"  said  Jackson,  with  a  distortion  of 
the  lips  which  might  pass  for  a  smile.  "  I  sha'n't  try  the 
experiment  again." 

"  Don't !  "  said  Gaunt,  quietly.  "  Nothing  in  this  world 
is  so  bad  that  it  might  not  be  worse." 

"  That's  a  lie  ! "  remarked  Jackson,  laconically. 

Gaunt  made  no  response,  but  accompanied  the  young 
fellow  as  far  as  the  saloon  stairs,  and  waited  until  he  had 
entered  his  cabin. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Jackson  passed  him  on  deck 
with  a  casual  kind  of  nod.  But  after  Gaunt  had  passed, 
Jackson  looked  after  him  with  a  curious  expression  on 
his  face. 

There  were  a  half-dozen  children  on  board,  and  though 
Gaunt  had  avoided  his  fellow-passengers  some  of  these 
children  had  not  so  much  attracted  his  attention,  but 
forced  themselves  upon  it,  for  there  was  something  about 
Gaunt  which  exerted  a  magnetic  influence  upon  animals 
and  children.  Decima  had  felt  it  that  first  day  of  meet- 
ing him  at  the  Zoo. 

One  little  girl,  a  pale-faced  little  thing,  whose  mother 
was  taking  her  to  Africa  in  the  hope  of  snatching  her 
from  the  Demon  Consumption,  had  on  several  occasions 
contrived  to  attract  his  attention,  and  once  or  twice  Gaunt 
had  stopped  in  his  pacing  and  spoken  to  her  ;  and  the 
child  had  looked  so  pleased  that  he  had  got  into  the 
habit  of  pausing  beside  her  deck-chair  and  talking  to  her 
about  the  ship's  log,  the  absence  of  any  toys  on  board, 
her  own  complicated  ailments.  He  would  draw  the  wool 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  161 

shawl  across  her  chest,  or  carry  her  and  the  chair  bodily 
into  the  sun  and  out  of  the  wind.  He  rarely  spoke  to 
the  mother,  who  was  rather  afraid  of  the  grim-looking 
gentleman,  but  Maude  did  not  share  her  mother's  fear 
and  shyness,  and  talked  to  Gaunt  with  the  frankness  of 
childish  innocence. 

Gaunt  loved  all  children,  and  the  child's  liking  for 
him  brought  him  some  kind  of  consolation  in  his  misery. 
There  was  a  look —  or  he  fancied  there  was  a  look — in 
her  pale  face  which  reminded  him  of  Decima.  Perhaps, 
he  thought,  Decima  looked  like  that  when  she  was  a  child. 
He  knew,  as  well  as  the  ship's  doctor  knew,  that  the  lit- 
tle one  was  doomed,  and  his  heart  was  full  of  sympathy 
for  the  anxious  mother.  The  child  told  him  all  about 
herself,  and  often  plied  him  with  questions  about  him- 
self. 

"  Why  do  you  always  walk  about  alone  ?  "  she  asked, 
one  evening-. 

"  Well,  I  like  it,"  he  said.  "  Xow,  if  you  were  able  to 
walk  about  with  me,  Maude — 

"  I  wish  I  was !  "  she  said,  in  her  thin  voice.  "  I  often 
watch  you  when  you  think  I'm  not  looking,  and  I  see 
that  you  are  always  thinking,  thinking.  Mamma  says  that 
she's  sure  you've  something  on  your  mind.  Have  you?  " 

"A  very  great  deal,  Maude,"'  said  Gaunt,  with  a  smile. 

"  And  you're  not  going  to  Africa  because  you're  ill  and 
going  to  die  ?  "  said  the  child. 

"  I  hope  none  of  us  are  going  to  Africa  to  die,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  I  am,"  '  she  remarked,  confidently.  "  Mamma 
thinks  I  am  going  to  get  better,  but  I  know  I  am  not. 
Something  inside  me  seems  to  tell  me  so." 

"  We'll  hope  for  the  best,  Maude,"  said  Gaunt. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  assented,  cheerfully,  "  but  it  isn't  much 
use  hoping.  And  now  you're  going  to  walk  on  the  upper 
deck  by  yourself,  with  your  arms  behind  your  back  and 
your  '  thinking  '  face  on.  I  wish  I  could  come  with  you, 
then  p'r'ps  you  wouldn't  think  so  much  ;  but  I  can't 
walk." 

"  You  shall  come  all  the  same,"  said  Gaunt ;  "  I'll  carry 
you." 

"  Will  you,  really  ?     I'm  very  heavy,  you  know !  " 

With  a  glance,  which  asked  permission,  at  her  mother, 


K>2  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Gaunt  lifted  her  in  his  arms,  drew  the  shawl  closely 
round  her,  and  carried  her  to  the  upper  deck. 

She  was -wonderfully  delighted,  and  prattled  to  him  in 
her  childish,  artless  way. 

"  You  must  be  very  strong  to  carry  me  like  this  !  "  she 
said  ;  "  but  perhaps  you  are  used  to  it  ?  " 

He  thought  of  the  night  he  had  carried  Decima,  and  his 
lips  set  tightly. 

"  No,  I've  not  had  much  practice  in  this  kind  of  thing ; 
but  you're  not  very  heavy,  and  I  like  carrying  you." 

"  And  I  like  you  to  carry  me,"  she  said.  "  I  think  you 
are  a  very  kind  gentleman." 

"  Thank  you,  Maude,"  said  Gaunt.  "  That  was  a  very 
nice  thing  to  say." 

Presently  he  knew  by  the  way  in  which  her  head  lay 
on  his  breast  that  she  was  asleep,  and  he  carried  her 
down  to  the  saloon  to  her  mother. 

"Thank  you,  my  lord,"  the  lady  said,  as  he  placed  her 
little  one  in  her  arms.  "  You  must  have  a  kind  heart  to 
be  so  kind  to  my  child." 

"  I'm  fond  of  children,"  said  Gaunt. 

He  went  up  on  deck  again.  A  fog  was  coming  on,  and 
he  watched  it  rolling  up,  from  the  horizon.  He  was  think- 
ing, not  of  the  child,  but  of  Decima.  Where  was  she 
now?  What  would  happen  to  her?  She  would  not 
marry  Mershon.  "  But  there  would  be  some  one  else. 
Some  one,  please  God,  worthy  of  her.  His  heart  ached 
with  anguish  as  he  thought  that  he  had  no  right  even  to 
protect  her.  He  was  startled  by  a  voice  near  him.  It 
was  Mr.  Jackson's. 

"The  fog's  coming  on  thick,"  he  said,  in  the  dull,  ex- 
pressionless tone  which  was  habitual  to  him. 

Gaunt  assented. 

"  How  far  off  are  the  Canaries  ?  "  asked  Jackson. 

"  About  two  days'  sail,  I  should  think,"  replied  Gaunt. 

Jackson  moved  away,  and  Gaunt  paced  up  and  down. 
Presently  he  almost  ran  against  the  captain. 

"  Thick  fog !  "  he  said. 

The  captain  grunted  and  passed  on. 

During  the  night  the  fog  increased.  Gaunt,  coming  on 
deck  the  next  morning,  found  the  vessel  steaming  in  an 
impenetrable  vapor,  as  dense  as  a  blanket.  Every  now 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  163 

and  then  she  almost  came  to  a  standstill.  The  captain's 
bell  seemed  to  ring  incessantly  ;  the  mate's  voice  was 
heard  at  intervals,  gravely  and  sternly  giving  orders. 
Gaunt  knew  that  they  were  nearing  a  dangerous  coast, 
but  the  other  passengers,  less  experienced  and  informed, 
displayed  no  great  interest  and  felt  no  anxiety.  They 
grumbled  at  the  fog,  grumbled  at  the  captain  as  if  he 
were  answerable  for  it,  grumbled  at  each  other ;  but  there 
was  no  anxiety. 

Gaunt  himself  was  not  apprehensive  until  the  evening 
of  the  second  day's  fog.  Then  as  he  was  pacing  the  for- 
ward deck  he  overheard  the  captain  remark  to  the  first 
mate  : 

"  Better  stop  the  engines  !  " 

Gaunt  had  crossed  the  ocean  too  many  times  not  to 
know  what  this  meant. 

The  vessel  had  lost  her  reckoning ;  the  captain  did  not 
know  where  he  was. 

Gaunt  went  down  to  the  saloon.  Some  one  was  bang- 
ing away  at  the  piano ;  there  was  the  usual  laughing  and 
talking.  Some  of  the  young  people  were,  under  the 
shelter  of  the  music,  flirting  boldly  ;  they  all  looked  happy 
and  free  from  care. 

Then  suddenly  that  peculiar  noise  of  the  screw,  to 
which  the  ocean  traveler  so  soon  becomes  accustomed, 
ceased. 

Every  voice  was  silent;  the  young  lady  at  the  piano 
stopped  playing ;  every  one  glanced  at  his  neighbor  in- 
terrogatively. 

Before  any  question  could  be  asked,  the  captain  came 
into  the  saloon.  There  was  an  easy  smile  on  his  face, 
and,  when  a  particularly  nervous  gentleman  exclaimed : 
"  The  screw's  stopped  !  What's  the  matter,  captain  ?  " 
he  nodded  carelessly  and  replied : 

"  Giving  the  stokers  a  rest.  Go  on  with  your  playing, 
Miss  Brown  ;  we  shall  be  off  again  directly  !  " 

But  the  fog  increased,  and  the  engines  did  not  start. 

Gaunt  went  on  deck,  and  found  the  captain  in  close 
confab  with  the  mate. 

"  Anything  wrong,  captain  ?  "  asked  Gaunt,  quietly. 

The  captain  was  about  to  make  a  brusque  reply,  but  as 
he  glanced  at  Gaunt's  face  he  seemed  to  change  his  mind. 


164  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  he  said.  "  We've  lost  our  reckoning. 
This  fog  has  caught  us,  fairly  caught  us." 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  ?  "  asked  Gaunt,  "  but,  of 
course,  there  is  not." 

The  captain  shook  his  head,  "  Xo."  Then  he  said,  as 
if  with  an  after-thought,  "  Well,  yes ;  you  can  go  below 
and  keep  'em  easy  till  we  get  out  of  this.  It  may  lift 
directly." 

But  he  looked  into  the  fog  doubtfully. 

Gaunt,  after  a  glance  at  the  thick  vapor  through  which 
one  could  not  see  a  yard,  went  back  to  the  saloon. 

Miss  Brown  had  ceased  playing,  and  silence  had  settled 
upon  the  lately  light-hearted  crowd.  Gaunt  went  to  the 
piano  and  struck  a  chord. 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  this  song  ?  "  he  said. 

Everybody  turned  to  him  with  expectation  and  surprise. 

He  was  no  musician,  and  he  had  not  touched  a  piano 
for  years;  but  in  his  younger  days  he  had  been  able  to 
play  an  accompaniment.     He  played  and  sang  the  Jiuk 
song  in  "  The  Trial  by  Jury." 

He  scarcely  knew  what  he  was  singing,  but  the  audi- 
ence applauded  vociferously  ;  all  the  more  vociferously 
because  this  usually  stern  and  reserved  man  had  conde- 
scended to  make  an  effort  for  their  amusement. 

"  Encore !     Encore !     Give  us  another  !  "  they  cried. 

Gaunt  puzzled  his  brains,  and  after  dint  of  thinking 
remembered  another  song.  It  was  absolutely  necessary 
that  this  crowd  of  timid  Dassengers  should  be  prevented 
from  knowing  and  thinknig  of  the  peril  that  lay  so  near 
them. 

He  played  and  sang  and  little  Maude  stole  up  to  the 
piano  and  leaned  against  him  admiringly  and  confidingly. 

"You  are  a  clever  man!"  she  said  in  her  childish 
treble. 

Gaunt  rose  up  from  the  piano  and  inducted  a  more 
skilful  performer. 

"  Let  us  have  something  with  a  chorus,"  he  said,  with 
a  gayety  that  surprised  his  hearers,  who  had  hitherto  re- 
garded him  as  the  most  grim  and  unsociable  of  men. 

A  young  lady  went  to  the  piano  and  began  the  accom- 
paniment to  a  comic  song  one  of  the  young  men  essayed 
to  sing. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  165 

Gaunt  heard  the  stern  voice  of  the  captain  issuing 
orders,  and  the  tramp  of  the  crew  as  they  obeyed. 

The  song  proceeded,  the  chorus  was  being  roared,  when 
suddenly  there  came  a  peculiar  shock  and  sound  which 
struck  the  singers  dumb. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

No  one  knew  what  had  happened,  but  through  every 
man  and  woman  there  had  run  something  which  had  sent 
cold  fear  and  dread  to  every  heart.  They  sprang  to 
their  feet  and  looked  wildly  at  each  other  for  a  moment 
in  silence,  then  the  first  shriek  rose  from  a  woman's  lips 
and  was  instantly  followed  by  others. 

There  was  a  rush  for  the  saloon  door.  That  terrible 
thing,  Panic,  had  taken  hold  of  them,  and  men  and  women 
fought  for  the  narrow  doorway,  some  of  the  former  for- 
getting their  manhood  in  their  terror  and  pushing  the 
women  aside. 

Gaunt  stood  near  the  door ;  he  heard  the  captain  as  he 
passed  the  upper  deck  door  pause  and  say  calmly  and 
sternly  : 

"  Oblige  me  by  keeping  the  passengers  in  the  saloon, 
my  lord." 

Gaunt  closed  the  door,  and  stood  with  his  back  to  it. 
The  ship  was  rocking  hideously,  like  a  living  thing  in 
pain,  and  some  of  the  women  fell  to  the  ground  or  were 
thrown  there  by  the  mad  rush  of  the  men  for  the  door. 
Gaunt  stood  firm  and  square,  with  his  legs  apart. 

"  We  must  remain  where  we  are,"  he  said.  "  We  must 
obey  the  captain's  order.  There  may  be  no  danger  ;  we 
should  certainly  not  better  things  by  crowding  on  the 
deck  and  hindering  the  men." 

Some  of  them  fell  back,  but  one  or  two  of  the  men  still 
pressed  on  him,  and  the  nearest  caught  him  by  the  collar 
of  his  coat. 

"  Who  are  you  to  stand  in  our  way  ?  "  he  demanded,  in 
a  voice  thick  with  the  frenzy  of  terror.  "  Stand  aside  ! 
We're  not  going  to  be  huddled  up  down  here  !  " 

"  Yes,  stand  aside  !  "  said  one  or  two  others,  advancing 
threateningly. 


166  HEP,  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

Gaunt  saw  that  it  was  necessary  to  make  an  example, 
and  he  promptly  knocked  the  first  speaker  down. 

"  Please  understand,"  he  said,  "  that  not  one  of  us  will 
leave  the  saloon  until  we  have  the  captain's  permission." 

The  man  picked  himself  up,  and  the  rest  fell  back  a 
pace.  Gaunt's  calmness  and  firmness  were  making  them 
ashamed  of  themselves.  Gaunt  deliberately  shot  the  bolt 
in  the  door,  and  leaned  against  it. 

"  Look  to  the  ladies !  "  he  said  to  the  men.  "  The 
trouble  may  be  over  in  a  few  minutes.  We  have  a  good 
captain  and  a  good  crew,  and  we  can  rely  upon  them  to 
do  their  utmost  for  us  !  " 

His  quiet  words,  his  perfect  self-possession,  had  their 
due  effect  upon  the  women.  They  ceased  shrieking  and 
screaming,  but  huddled  together,  crying  and  moaning  in 
a  subdued  fashion. 

Gaunt  went  on  talking,  doing  his  best  to  reassure  them. 
Presently  little  Maude  ran  from  among  the  women  and 
came  to  his  side,  and  stole  her  hand  into  1 

'•  I'm  not  afraid,"  she  said.  "  Least  I  am  afraid,  but  I 
won't  cry,  Lord  Gaunt !  " 

He  put  his  hand  upon  her  head. 

"That's  right,  Maude,  dear,"  ho  said.  "There's  not 
much  use  in  crying,  is  there?  And  it's  very  likely  that 
AVC  shall  all  be  laughing  again  present !y." 

The  A'essel  still  rocked  in  the  same  curious  way,  and 
the  peculiar  motion  told  Gaunt  what  had  happened. 

The  Pevensey  Castle  had  drifted  onto  a  rock  or  a  sand- 
bank and  Avas  SAvaying  to  and  fro  on  a  pivot  as  the  s 
struck  her. 

Ages  seemed  to  pa'ss  Avhile  he  stood  there,  holding  the 
crowd  by  the  poAver  of  his  eye  and  voice,  but  presently 
he  heard  the  captain's  step  on  the  stairs,  and  he  opened 
the  door  and  admitted  him.  The  captain  took  in  the 
situation  at  a  glance. 

"  Thank  you,  my  lord  ! "  he  said,  calmly  and  quietly,  as 
if  he  Avere  thanking  Gaunt  for  passing  the  salt.     Then  he 
looked  round.     "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  said  :  "  \\< 
struck  on  a  sandbank."     He  held  up  his  hand  as  a  cry  of 
terror  arose.     "  There's  no  need  to  be  alarmed.     Tru 
no   need  for  a  single  soul  to  come  to  harm.     I  al  v. 
think  it  best  to  tell  the  truth,  and  the  Avhole  truth,  and 


HER  HEAET'S  DESIRE.  167 

here  it  is  :  We're  on  the  coast  of  Mogador,  and  not  very 
far  from  the  harbor.  The  boats  are  ready,  and  I'll  have 
you  all  put  ashore  as  comfortably  as  possible — that  is,  if 
you  obey  orders.  Now,  you  will  please  come  on  deck  a 
dozen  at  a  time  ;  a  dozen  and  no  more.  Lord  Gaunt  will 
be  kind  enough  to  point  out  each  lot  and  see  that  the 
order  is  carried  out.  May  I  trouble  you  so  far,  my 
lord  ?  " 

Gaunt  nodded. 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  captain,  calmly.  "  Then  I  can 
return  to  my  place  on  deck." 

He  put  a  revolver  in  Gaunt's  hands  and  went  up 
again. 

The  crowd  watched  Gaunt  with  eager  eyes,  and  almost 
seemed  to  cease  breathing  as  he  pointed  out  the  first 
dozen,  nine  women  and  three  men. 

"  The  men  will  take  charge  of  the  ladies,"  he  said,  "  and 
help  them  into  the  boat." 

If  any  of  the  men  felt  inclined  to  disobey  him  hi.s  com- 
plete self-possession  and  perhaps  the  sight  of  the  revolv- 
er in  his  hand,  would  have  restrained  them.  The  first 
dozen  were  marshaled  out  of  the  cabin  to  the  deck.  The 
others,  waiting  anxiously,  could  hear  the  mate  giving 
orders,  and  the  sailors'  "  Ay,  ay,  sir ! "  as  the  boat  was 
launched. 

The  captain  called  out,  "  Next  lot ! "  and  a  second 
dozen  were  dispatched.  And  so  it  went  until  only  ten 
remained.  Gaunt  had  intended  sending  little  Maude  and 
her  mother  in  one  of  the  earlier,  batches,  but  the  child 
had  clung  to  him  and  begged  to  remain. 

"  Let  mamma  and  me  go  with  you  !  "  she  said.  "  I 
know  we  shall  be  quite  safe  then." 

As  the  turn  of  the  last  lot  came  Gaunt  picked  up  the 
child  with  his  left  arm,  leaving  his  right  free  for  the  re- 
volver, and  led  the  way  up  on  deck.  The  fog  was  still 
thick,  but  the  ship  was  brilliantly  lit  by  the  electric  light, 
and  Gaunt  looked  round  upon  a  scene  of  admirable  order. 
All  the  boats  had  gone  save  two,  and  they  were  ready  to 
be  launched  at  the  word  of  command. 

The  captain  and  his  officers  stood  as  calmly,  and  spoke 
as  quietly  as  if  nothing  whatever  was  the  matter,  and 
the  crew  were  carrying  out  their  orders  with  cheerful 


168  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

alacrity.  The  last  boat  but  one  went  off  with  its  living 
freight  ;  it  consisted  of  a  number  of  the  crew,  as  well  as 
some  of  the  passengers.  Each  boat,  as  it  left  the  rock- 
ing ship,  sent  up  a  cheer,  which  was  returned  by  those 
remaining  on  deck.  "  Now,  my  lord,"  said  the  captain, 
as  the  last  boat  was  launched. 

Gaunt  helped  the  women  into  their  places.  He  put 
Maude's  mother  in,  and  she  held  out  her  arms  for  the 
child. 

"  Good-by,  little  one ! "  he  said,  and  he  kissed  her. 

She  wound  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  looked  up  at 
him  imploringly. 

"  Oh,  not  '  good-by,'  "  she  said.  "  You're  coining  ; 
you're  coming  ?  I  won't  go  without  you !  " 

"  Presently  !  presently !  "  said  Gaunt.  He  kissed  her 
again,  loosened  her  hold  gently  and  as  gently  placed  her 
in  her  mother's  arms. 

There  was  only  one  place  in  the  boat  remaining. 
Gaunt  looked  up  the  gangway.  Besides  himself,  there 
were  only  two  men  left  on  the  deck.  One  was  the  cap- 
tain, and  the  other,  to  Gaunt's  surprise,  was  Jackson. 
The  young  fellow  was  very  pale,  and  his  lips  were  apart 
as  if  he  were  breathing  hard. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,"  said  the  captain.  "  One  of  you  get 
in,  please.  The  quicker  you  are  away  the  better." 

Gaunt  stood  aside  and  motioned  to  him. 

"  You  go,  captain,"  he  said. 

"  Thank  you,  my  lord,"  said  the  captain  quietly.  "  I 
stand  by  the  ship." 

Gaunt  went  up  the  steps  quickly  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  Jackson's  shoulder. 

"  Off  with  you  !  "  lie  said. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Gaunt,  as  quietly  as  before.  "  I  am  going 
to  stay  with  the  captain." 

"  The  d — d  ship  will  be  in  pieces  before  the  morning," 
panted  Jackson.  "  It's  certain  death  to  stick  by 
her !  " 

He  had  been  drinking  heavily,  and  his  eyes  were  blood- 
shot and  staring,  and  the  sweat  stood  in  huge  drops  on 
his  forehead,  but  he  was  quite  sober,  and  fully  realized 
the  peril  and  the  chance  of  escape. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  169 

"  All  the  more  reason  you  should  go,"  said  Gaunt, 
quickly,  but  in  a  low  voice. 

Jackson  still  hesitated,  and  Gaunt,  knowing  the  danger 
of  delay,  gripped  him  by  the  arm  and  drew  him  down 
the  gangway  and  almost  forced  him  into  the  boat. 

"  5ly  God  !  "  murmured  Jackson,  brokenly,  and  he  let 
his  head  fall  into  his  hand  as  he  sank  into  the  seat. 

The  boat  got  clear,  and  as  she  moved  away  the  last 
cheer  arose,  and  Gaunt  and  the  captain  responded  to  it, 
and  waved  their  caps.  She  was  lost  to  sight  in  a  minute, 
and  the  captain  and  Gaunt,  after  straining  their  eyes 
after  her,  turned  instinctively  and  looked  at  each  other. 
The  captain  held  out  his  hand. 

"  You  are  a  brave  man,  my  lord !  "  he  said,  and  for  the 
first  time  there  was  a  slight  tremor  in  his  voice. 

Gaunt  smiled  as  he  shook  the  hand. 

"  One  might  finish  up  in  a  worse  way  than  this,  cap- 
tain," he  said.  "  I  suppose  there's  not  much  chance  for 
us?" 

The  captain  shook  his  head. 

"  Xot  much,  my  lord,"  he  said ;  "  the  wind's  getting 
up;  there's  a  hole  in  her  bottom — don't  you  hear  the 
water  coming  in  ?  She'll  heel  over  before  long — "  There 
was  no  need  to  finish  the  sentence.  "  It's  a  pity  !  "  he 
added,  after  a  moment,  "  a  pity  !  She  was  a  fine  vessel, 
and  I'm  fond  and  proud  of  her." 

His  voice  broke  slightly,  and  he  moved  away,  as  if  he 
did  not  like  Gaunt  to  see  his  emotion. 

Gaunt  made  his  way  with  some  difficulty  to  the  bow, 
and,  leaning  against  the  bulwark,  looked  into  the  fog. 
A  strange  feeling  of  peace  and  rest  was  stealing  over  him. 
As  he  had  said,  one  might  make  a  worse  finish  than  this. 
It  had  been  no  great  sacrifice  on  his  part,  the  surrender 
of  the  place  in  the  boat  to  Jackson,  for  he  had  not  the 
least  desire  to  prolong  a  life  which  was  now  a  burden  to 
him.  To  such  men  as  Gaunt,  life  is  only  precious  while 
it  holds  the  possibility  of  hope  and  love.  He  was  sorry 
for  the  poor  ship,  sorry  for  the  captain's  grief,  and  still 
more  sorry  that  so  brave  a  man  should  perish ;  but  for 
himself  he  had  no  regret,  no  desire  to  escape  the  end. 

Indeed,  he  did  not  think  of  himself,  but  of  Decima. 
As  he  gazed  into  the  fog  his  memory  and  imagination 


170  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

were  limning  upon  its  gray  surface  the  scenes  in  which 
he  had  acted  with  her.  He  recalled  their  first  meeting 
at  the  Zoo ;  the  day  they  had  met  by  the  stream  ;  the 
many  times  they  had  been  together  at  the  Hall ;  the 
night  of  the  ball,  when  he  held  her  in  his  arms,  and 
lastly,  the  night  of  their  parting,  when  he  had  told  her 
of  his  love  and  she  had  whispered  her  confession  of  her 
love  for  him. 

lie  could  hear  her  voice,  like  weird  music,  infinitely 
sweet  and  infinitely  sad,  coming  through  the  roar  of  the 
waves,  the  grating  and  grinding  of  the  doomed  ship  ;  he 
could  feel  her  kisses  warm  upon  his  lips,  feel  her  arms 
about  his  neck,  her  heart  beating  against  his. 

Memory  is  a  strange  thing,  and  at  that  moment  there 
came  back  to  Gaunt's  mind  some  verses  which  he  had 
read  many  years  ago,  and  which  he  had  not  thought  of 
since : 

"  There  is  no  hope,"  the  curlew  moans  ; 

"  She  is  not  thine — she  ne'er  can  be  !  " 
"  No  hope  !  '*  the  murmuring  sea  intones  ; 

"  No  hope  !  "  the  wind  sighs,  mockingly. 

"  O,  love  !  though  miles  may  stretch  between. 

Us  twain,  I  see  thy  face,  thy  form  : 
Thou  dvrell'st  within  my  heart,  my  Queen ; 

And  on  my  lips  thy  kiss  is  warm. 

"  Oh,  love  my  love  !  for  some  short  space 

Think  of  me,  in  this  lonely  spot, 
Haunted  by  your  dear  voice  and  face  ; 

And,  oli,  my  love,  forget  me  not !  " 

"  Forget  me  not ! "  What  right  had  he  to  wish  that 
she  should  remember  him  ?  His  very  love  for  her  had 
fallen  like  a  blight  upon  her  young  life.  Xo !  Rather 
let  him  wish  that  she  should  forget  him.  And  surely 
she  would  do  so.  She  was  young ;  her  life  still  stretched 
before  her.  Her  love  for  him  would  gradually  wane  and 
die ;  some  other  man  would  come  and  stir  her  heart  with 
love  again.  But  let  him  be  whom  he  may,  though  he 
were  a  thousand  times  worthier  of  her  than  he  AY  as,  he 
would  not  love  her  with  more  passionate  and  devoted 
love  than  that  which  had  burned  like  a  pure  name  in 
Gaunt's  heart. 

He  pictured  her  the  wife  of  another  man  with  a  keener 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  171 

anguish  than  any  fear  of  approaching  death  could  have 
aroused,  but  yet  with  no  bitterness,  for  as  he  thought  of 
her  his  lips  moved  in  a  fervent  prayer  for  her  happiness. 

« God  bless  you,  my  dearest,  my  dearest !  "  he  mur- 
mured. "  May  my  mad  love  never  cast  its  shadow  over 
your  future  happiness !  " 

The  captain  came  up  to  him. 

«  She  is  filling  fast ! "  he  said.  "  She  will  go  over 
presently." 

(4 aunt  nodded. 

"  All  right,"  lie  said. 

The  captain  took  out  his  pipe. 

"  Have  you  any  tobacco  ?  "  he  asked. 

Gaunt  handed  him  his  pouch ;  then  he  filled  his  own 

They  stood  side  by  side,  smoking  in  silence.  Suddenly 
a  big  wave,  which  seemed  mountains  high  struck  the 
side ;  the  vessel  heeled  over,  and  Gaunt  was  thrown  on 
his  back.  When  he  looked  up,  half  blinded  by  the  spray, 
he  could  not  see  the  captain.  The  brave  man  had  gone. 

Another  wave  smote  the  doomed  vessel,  and  Gaunt 
felt  himself  swept  against  the  deck-house  so  violently 
that  he  was  half  stunned  by  the  contact.  A  spar  from 
the  rigging  lay,  across  his  chest  and  instinctively  he 
clasped  it.  He  lay  thus,  for  it  was  impossible  to  stand 
for  some  minutes ;  then  there  came  another  wave,  and, 
still  grasping  the  spar,  he  was  swept  overboard.  How 
long  he  retained  consciousness  after  he  had  been  dashed 
into  the  sea  cannot  be  told.  To  swim  was  impossible ; 
the  ground  swell  was  too  violent,  Mechanically  he  still 
clung  to  the  spar.  The  tide  was  setting  out  to  sea,  and 
as  he  floated  he  saw  that  the  fog  was  gradually  lifting, 
and  as  he  was  borne  on  the  top  of  a  wave  he  looked 
round  for  the  vessel.  She  had  disappeared. 

Gaunt  prayed  for  death  at  that  moment,  for  this  ter- 
rible solitude  in  the  midst  of  the  roaring  waves  was  in- 
finitely worse  than  death.  Then  his  senses  left  him,  and 
with  "Decirna"  upon  his  lips,  he  relaxed  his  hold  of  the 

spar. 

******* 

When  he  came  to  he  found,  to  his  amazement,  that  he 
was  lying  in  a  comfortable  berth  in  a  luxurious  cabin. 


172  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Two  men  were  standing  beside  him.  They  exchanged 
a  look,  and  nodded,  as  Gaunt  opened  his  eyes.  Gaunt 
looked  around  and  sighed.  At  that  moment  he  was  not 
particularly  glad  to  come  back  to  life. 

"  All  right,  now '? "  said  one  of  the  men  who  was  watch- 
ing him.  He  was  a  young  fellow,  with  a  pleasant  face 
and  a  pleasant  smile.  He  was  dressed  in  yachting  cos- 
tume, and  was  smoking  a  cigarette. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  asked  Gaunt,  with  an  effort. 

"  On  board  the  Sea  Wolf,"  replied  the  young  fellow. 
"My  yacht.  We  picked  you  up  early  this  morning. 
You've  been  wrecked,  I  suppose  ?  " 

Gaunt  nodded. 

"  Better  not  let  him  talk  yet  awhile,"  broke  in  the  sec- 
ond man, 

"  All  right,  doctor,"  assented  the  young  fellow,  cheer- 
fully. "You  goto  sleep  if  you  can,"  he  said  to  Gaunt. 
"  You'll  be  all  right  after  a  snooze.  We'll  leave  you 
quiet." 

Gaunt  closed  his  eyes  again  and  slept.  When  he 
awoke,  he  found  the  young  fellow  standing  beside  him 
with  a  basin  of  broth. 

"  Get  outside  this  !  "  he  said.  "  The  doctor — he's  a 
friend  of  mine,  and  has  come  this  trip  with  me — says 
that  you'll  pull  through  all  right." 

"  Thanks  ;  I've  no  doubt  I  shall,"  said  Gaunt,  not  very 
cheerfully.  "  May  I  ask  to  whom  I  am  indebted  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  replied  the  young  man.  "  My 
name's  Dobson.  I'm  taking  a  cruise  in  this  yacht  of 
mine.  We  lost  our  reckoning  in  that  fog — and  it's  lucky 
we  did,  or  we  shouldn't  have  come  across  you  ! " 

"I  was  a  passenger  on  board  the  Pevensey  Castle,'* 
said  Gaunt.  "  She  drifted  on  a  sandbank." 

He  spoke  with  difficulty,  and  Mr.  Dobson  had  sense 
enough  to  stop  him. 

"  All  right,"  he  said.  "  Tell  us  all  about  it  when  you're 
more  fit.  Try  and  go  to  sleep  again.  There's  nothing 
like  sleep  for  your  case,  so  the  doctor  says.  I've  brought 
you  some  books  and  papers,  if  you  can't  manage  to  sleep.'* 

He  left  the  cabin,  and  Gaunt  tried  to  sleep ;  but  his 
head  ached  too  much,  and  presently  he  took  up  one 
of  the  papers. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  173 

He  turned  it  over  mechanically,  and  was  putting  it 
down  again,  when  his  eye  was  caught  by  a  heading  in 
large  type. 

"  The  Tragedy  at  Prince's  Mansions !  Verdict  of  Wil- 
ful Murder  Against  Lord  Gaunt !  " 

He  read  the  account  in  a  kind  of  stupor,  and  had  the 
paper  still  in  his  hand  when  Mr.  Dobson  re-entered  the 
cabin. 

"How  have  you  been  getting  on?"  he  inquired. 
"  Been  reading  the  paper  ?  That's  right !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Gaunt,  quietly,  "  I  have  been  reading  the 
account  of  the — murder  at  Prince's  Mansions." 

"  Ah,  terrible  affair,  that,"  put  in  Dobson.  "  They 
haven't  got  that  Lord  Gaunt  yet,  more's  the  pity  !  " 

"  No  ?  "  said  Gaunt,  raising  himself  on  his  elbow.  "  I 
am  Lord  Gaunt,  Mr.  Dobson.  How  soon  can  you  take 
me  back  to  England  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Tun  news  of  the  wreck  of  the  Pevensey  Castle  did  not 
reach  London  until  some  days  after  the  sad  event ;  but 
when  it  did  it  created  a  sensation  only  inferior  to  that 
which  had  been  caused  by  the  murder  in  Prince's  Man- 
sions. 

The  boats  had  reached  the  harbor  of  Mogador  in  safety, 
and  the  rescued  passengers  had  given  full  and  touching 
account  of  the  foundering  of  the  ill-fated  vessel  and  the 
heroic  conduct  of  the  captain  and  Lord  Gaunt.  That 
they  had  both  been  drowned  no  one  seemed  to  entertain 
any  doubt,  and  on  the  principle  of  speaking  nothing  but 
good  of  the  dead,  Lord  Gaunt's  crime  was  forgotten  for 
the  moment  in  admiration  for  his  heroism. 

The  papers  came  out  with  the  whole  story,  and  leaders 
were  written,  dilating,  with  editorial  unction,  upon  the 
dramatic  aspect  of  the  affair  and  the  poetical  justice 
which  had  been  dealt  out  to,  as  the  writers  called  him, 
*'  this  unfortunate  nobleman."  They,  all  of  them,  how- 
ever, failed  to  inform  their  readers  what  the  captain  had 
done  to  deserve  death.  But  that  was  a  mere  matter  of 
detail. 


174  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

To  Decima,  lying  white  and  wan  in  the  darkened  room, 
no  tidings  of  the  outside  world  were  permitted  to  reach. 
She  had  recovered  consciousness,  but  she  lay  'twixt  life 
and  death,  in  that  condition  of  mind  and  body  which  re- 
sembles stupor.  All  danger,  however,  was  past ;  her 
youth  and  strength  had  fought  the  battle  for  her,  and 
won  it,  and  as  the  doctor  said,  it  was  only  a  question  of 
time  and  careful  nursing.  For  the  latter,  Lady  Pauline 
could  be  relied  on,  and  gradually  the  vacant  expression 
of  Decie's  eyes  changed  to  one  which,  although  it  was 
sadder,  displayed  some  faint  interest  in  life. 

On  the  day  the  news  of  the  loss  of  the  Pevensey  Castle 
and  Lord  Gaunt's  death  was  running  like  wildfire  through 
the  land,  Decima  turned  to  Lady  Pauline  and  said  : 

"  I  suppose  I  am  not  going  to  die,  Aunt  Pauline  ?  " 

Lady  Pauline  took  the  snow-white  hand  and  patted  it 
softly. 

"  I  hope  not,  dear,"  she  said.  "  Xo ;  you  have  been 
very  ill,  but  you  are  quite  out  of  danger  now.  I  hope 
that  in  a  few  days  I  shall  be  able  to  take  you  down- stairs. 
And  then  we  will  go  to  "Walfield.  You  would  like  to  go 
there,  would  you  not  ?  " 

Decima  thought  for  a  moment,  then  she  replied  : 

"  I  think  I  would  rather  go  home.  Father  must  miss 
me.  And  Bobby  will  be  coming  home,  and — and  it  is 
more  comfortable  for  him  when  I  am  there." 

"  "We  will  see,"  said  Lady  Pauline,  gently.  "  We  will 
ask  the  doctor." 

Decima"  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  she  turned  her 
eyes  away  and  asked  : 

"  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Mershon,  aunt  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Lady  Pauline.  "  I  have  seen  him,  and 
I  have  told  him  what  you  wished  him  to  be  told." 

Decima  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"Thank  you,  Aunt  Pauline.  I — I  am  afraid  he  was 
very  angry,  was  he  not  ?  " 

"  He  was,"  said  Lady  Pauline,  laconically.  "  But  we 
will  not  talk  of  Mr.  Mershon,  dear,  I  trust  that  he  has 
gone  out  of  your  life  from  henceforth." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes  ! "  she  cried.  "  I — I  could  not  marry 
him!"  She  shuddered.  "He  was  very  kind,  and  I — I 
am  grateful  to  him,  but  I  could  not  marry  him'  now !  " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  175 

She  turned  her  head  away  and  closed  her  eyes,  and 
Lady  Pauline,  who  thought  she  was  asleep,  looked  at  the 
white  face  sadly.  How  much  longer  could  the  story  of 
the  murder  and  Lord  Gaunt's  death  be  kept  from  Decima, 
and  what  would  be  its  effects  upon  her?  She  must  know 
sooner  or  later ;  the  air  was  full  of  it,  the  newspaper 
boys  were  yelling  it  through  the  streets. 

Later  in  the  day  Bobby  came  in.  He  was  terribly  up- 
set, and  scarcely  master  of  himself. 

"  You've  heard  the  news,  Lady  Pauline  ?  "  he  said,  as 
he  entered  the  drawing-room.  He  had  never  been  able 
to  address  her  as  "aunt." 

"  Yes,"  she  said.     "  It  is  terrible,  and  yet " 

"  I  know,"  said  Bobby,  with  a  kind  of  groan.  "  You 
are  thinking  that  he  has  escaped  a  trial  for  murder,  and 
— and,  perhaps  the  conviction  ?  " 

Lady  Pauline  nodded  and  sighed. 

"  He  never  did  it !  "  said  Bobby,  fervently. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  he  did.  But  we  need  not  discuss 
that,  Robert.  I  was  thinking  of  Decima." 

Bobby  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  She  will  hear  of  it  directly  she  gets  about  again,"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  said  Lady  Pauline.  "That  is  inevitable.  It 
will  be  better  that  she  should  hear  it  from  us." 

"  All,  yes  ;  but  who's  to  tell  her?"  he  demanded. 

'•  I  and  you,"  she  said,  with  her  usual  courage.  "  She 
will  bear  it  better  coming  from  us  than  from  strangers. 
I  think  she  will  be  strong  enough  to-morrow.  Will  you 
come  in  the  afternoon,  please  ?  I  asked  her  this  morning 
whether  she  would  like  to  go  to  Walfield,  but  she  seemed 
to  want  to  go  home." 

"  To  father,  yes,"  said  Bobby.  "  That's  like  Decima ; 
she  thinks  of  everyone  before  herself.  Father  will  want 
her,  too,  for  he's  in  trouble  again." 

"  What  trouble  ?  "  asked  Lady  Pauline. 

Bobby  groaned. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Mershon  lias  cut  up  rough.  It's  that  con- 
founded— I  beg  your  pardon,  Lady  Pauline  ! " 

"  There's  no  need  for  profane  expressions,  Robert,"  she 
said.  "  But  go  on." 

"It's  that  unfortunate  company,  the  Electric  Storage, 
you  know." 


176  PIER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  I  don't  know,  but  no  matter." 

"  It  seems  that  the  guv'nor  is  indebted  to  Mr.  Mershon  ; 
it's  rather  a  large  sum,  andMershon's  lawyer,  Mr.  Gilsby, 
has  written  to  the  guv'nor — well,  demanding  payment. 
Father  has  given  Merslion  bills,  you  know.'' 

Lady  Pauline  sighed. 

"I  will  help  your  father  to  the  best  of  my  ability, 
Robert,"  she  said.  "I  must  go  up  to  Decinia  now. 
Come  to-morrow,  and  if  she  is  strong  enough  we  will  tell 
her  about — about  Lord  Gaunt." 

Bobby  left  the  house  and  went  home ;  he  wras  staying 
at  a  quiet  hotel.  Prince's  Mansions  were  impossible  for 
him  under  the  circumstances,  and  he  bought  the  special 
editions  of  the  evening  papers  and  read  every  line  of  the 
account  of  the  shipwreck  and  "  Lord  Gaunt's  heroic  con- 
duct," and  his  heart  was  filled  with  sorrow  for  the  death 
of  the  man  whom  he  had  admired  and  loved  so  much. 

The  next  day  he  went  to  Berkeley  Square.  Lady 
Pauline  came  to  him  with  a  grave  but  determined  ex- 
pression on  her  face. 

"  She  is  much  better,"  she  said.  "  I  have  considered 
the  question  from  all  points  of  view,  and  I  have  decided 
that  she  ought  to  be  told  as  soon  as  possible.  You  may 
come  up  now,  but  you  will  be  careful,  Robert  ?  " 

Bobby  went  up  to  Decima's  room.  She  was  propped 
up  by  pillows,  and  looked  very  white  and  frail,  but  she 
smiled  as  he  entered  the  room,  and  wound  her  arms  round 
his  neck. 

"  I  am  quite  well  now,  Bobby,"  she  said,  "  and  Aunt 
Pauline  thinks  I  shall  be  able  to  go  home  in  a  few  days. 
How  is  father?  And  do  you  think  you  will  pass  your 
exam,  this  time,  dear  ?  " 

Bobby  kissed  her,  and  so  hid  his  face  for  a  moment. 
Lady  Pauline  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the  bed,  grave 
and  self-possessed. 

"Robert  has  something  to  tell  you,  Decie,"  she  said. 
"  Are  you  sure  you  are  strong  enough  to  bear  it  ?  It  is 
sad  and  painful  news ;  but  we  think  it  will  come  better 
from  us  who  love  you,  than  in  any  other  way." 

Decima  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  Sad,  painful  ?  "  she  said.  Then  she  sighed.  "  Yes, 
tell  me,  please,  Bobby  ! " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  177 

Slowly  and  hesitatingly,  and  with  many  pauses,  he  told 
her  of  the  murder,  and  as  she  listened  her  face  grew 
whiter  and  her  horror  expressed  itself  in  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  poor  lady  !  poor  lady  !  "  she  breathed.  "  I — I 
saw  her  portrait.  She  was  his  wife  !  Oh,  Bobby  !  " 

"  And — and  at  the  inquest  they  brought  a  verdict  of 
wilful  murder  against  Lord  Gaunt,"  he  said,  thickly. 

Decima  raised  herself  on  her  elbow. 

"  Against — against  Lord  Gaunt !  They  could  not !  " 
she  cried.  "  Murder  !  He  could  not  have  done  it !  I — I 
know  that  he  could  not !  Where  is  he  ?  What  does  he 
say  ?  Oh,  wait  a  moment ;  my  head  is  burning  !  Aunt 
Pauline,  you  do  not  believe  it  ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  said  Lady  Pauline.  "  I  do  not  think  him 
guilty." 

"  Thank  you,  oh,  thank  you,  auntie !  "  said  Decima, 
faintly.  "  Tell  me,  tell  me  it  all  again  !  Let  me  think  ! " 

She  put  her  hand  to  her  brow  and  closed  her  eyes. 

Bobby  went  over  it  all  again.  It  was  an  easy  task,  for 
he  had  been  thinking  of  nothing  else  for  days  past. 

"  No,"  said  Decima,  with  an  energy  which  astonished 
Bobby  and  Lady  Pauline.  "  It  is  impossible  !  I — I  know 
Lord  Gaunt !  He  could  not  have  done  it !  " 

She  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands  for  a  moment,  then 
she  -dropped  them  and  looked  from  Lady  Pauline  to 
Bobby. 

"  He  could  not !  Besides,  would  he  have  left  his  coat? 
Oh,  how  can  any  one  think  he  would  have  done  it  ?  " 

Bobby  held  his  breath.  Lady  Pauline  saturated  a 
pocket-handkerchief  with  cologne  and  bathed  Decima's 
brow.  She  waved  it  aside  impatiently. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  faint.  I  am  quite  strong  !  Where 
is  Lord  Gaunt  ?  What  does  he  say  ?  " 

Bobby  held  his  breath. 

"  Lord  Gaunt — Decie,  dear,  you'll  be  brave,  won't  you  ? 
Lady  Pauline  and  I  think  you  ought  to  hear  it  from  us, 
not  by  chance,  and  from  strangers— 

"  Yes,  yes  ! "  she  broke  in,  with  a  moan.  "  Tell  me — 
tell  me !  It  would  be  cruel  to  keep  it  from  me.  I — I 
want  to  know !  " 

"  Gaunt  went  by  the  Pevensey  Castle  on  the  morning 
after — after  the  murder." 


178  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

u  Yes,"  breathed  Decima.  "  He  said  he  was  going  to 
Africa  !  Well  ?  Oh,  tell  me  all !  I  can  bear  it :  indeed, 
I  can !  " 

«  And — and,"  faltered  Bobby,  "  the  vessel  was  lost.  It 
foundered  off  the  coast  of  Africa — 

Decima  raised  herself  and  looked  at  him,  with  some- 
thing in  her  eyes  which  Bobby  will  never  forget  while 
life  lasts. 

"  And  Gaunt — give  her  something,  Lady  Pauline ; 
brandy,  or — or  something !  "  he  broke  off. 

But  Decima  waved  a  refusal  of  the  offered  glass. 

"  Tell  me — tell  me  everything !  "  she  panted. 

Bobby  struggled  with  the  choking  feeling  in  his 
throat. 

"  Gaunt — and — and  the  captain  remained  on  board  after 
the  rest  had  left,  and — and — and — Gaunt— 

Decima  fell  back  on  to  the  pillows,  and  for  a  minute  or 
two  remained  motionless  and  speechless  ;  then  she  opened 
her  eyes,  and  the  hopeless  misery  and  despair  in  them 
brought  the  tears  to  Lady  Pauline's  eyes. 

"  And — and  he  is  dead  !  "  came  from  Decima's  white 
lips. 

Bobby  bowed  his  head. 

"  Yes,  I  am  afraid — they  all  think  he  was  lost.  He — 
he  behaved  like  a  hero.  I'll — I'll  read  the  newspaper  ac- 
count to  you  when  you  are  able." 

"  Xow !  now !  "  she  said,  in  a  hollow  whisper,  and 
Bobby,  as  if  he  could  not  resist  her,  drew  out  the  paper 
and  read  the  account.  Decima  listened,  with  fixed  eyes 
and  bated  breath,  to  the  statement  of  one  of  the  passengers, 
who  had  left  the  wreck  in  the  last  boat. 

"  You  see,"  said  Bobby,  struggling  with  the  choking 
in  his  throat,  "  he  gave  up  his  place  in  the  boat  to  that 
man,  Jackson.  He  kept  the  passengers  in  order,  and— 
and  stood  by  the  captain  till — till — the  last !  Decie,  it — 
it  is  just  what  Gaunt  would  do,  isn't  it?" 

She  opened  her  eyes  upon  him,  with  a  wild  despair. 

"Yes,  it  is  like  him!"  she  said.  "It  is  just  what  he 
•would  do  ! !  Oh — oh,  how  I  wish  I  had  been  there  !  How 
I  wish  I  had  been  the  little  child  he  kissed !  " 

"  Decie  ! "  murmured  Lady  Pauline. 

Decima  turned  upon  her. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  179 

"  Yes,  I  wish  I  had  been  there  !  I  wish  I  had  died  with 
him  ! " 

Then  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  was  silent  for  a  moment 
or  two,  so  long  that  Lady  Pauline  thought  she  had  fainted 
and  went  to  a  table  for  a  restorative,  but  suddenly  Decima 
opened  her  eyes  and  said,  with  feverish  emphasis  : 

"  He  is  not  dead !  I  know  it !  He  is  not  dead !  If  he 
were  I — I  should  feel  it !  No,  he  is  not  dead ! " 

Presently  she  asked  them  to  leave  her  alone. 

"  You  will  try  and  bear  your  burden,  dear ? "  said  Lady 
Pauline,  as  she  bent  over  her  and  kissed  her.  "  We 
deemed  it  best  to  tell  you,  better  that  you  should  hear  it 
from  us  who  love  you." 

"  Yes,  yes ! "  said  Decima,  with  a  sigh,  and  a  weary 
movement  of  the  thin  hand.  "  You  were  right  to  tell  me, 
Aunt  Pauline,  but — but  I  want  to  think.  I  have  not  re- 
alized it  yet ;  it  is  like  one  of  the  dreadful  dreams  that 
came  to  me  when  I  was  ill :  I  want  to  think — and — oh, 
if  I  could  only  cry  !  Aunt  Pauline,  my  heart  is  broken  ! 
But  I  will  try  and  bear  my  burden !  " 

"Pray  for  strength,  dear,"  whispered  the  good  woman  ; 
but  Decima  shook  her  head. 

"  I  can't  pray  !  "  she  said,  miserably  and  with  no  irrev- 
erence. "  I  could  only  pray  to  die — and  that  would  be 
wicked." 

"  Yes,  Decima.  Life  and  death  are  in  His  hands  !  " 
said  Lady  Pauline,  and  she  and  Bobby  left  the  stricken 
girl  alone. 

Decima  did  not  close  her  eyes ;  she  could  see  the  figure 
which  had  been  first  and  foremost  in  her  life,  with  eyes 
wide  open.  And  she  went  over  all  Lady  Pauline  and 
Bobby  had  told  her  of  the  murder,  and  of  Gaunt's  life 
and  Gaunt's  death. 

Not  for  an  instant  did  the  possibility  of  his  guilt  enter 
her  mind.  She  knew  him — the  innermost  heart  and  soul 
of  the  man — too  well  to  permit  the  faintest  touch  of  doubt 
as  to  his  innocence.  Some  other  hand  had  done  the  deed ; 
whose,  mattered  very  little  to  Decima  at  that  moment, 
for  all  her  mind  and  heart  were  concentrated  upon  the 
fate  of  the  man  she  had  loved,  and  would  love  with  all 
the  strength  of  her  woman's  soul,  until  death. 

Not  one  minute   detail  of  the   shipwreck  had  escaped 


180  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

her,  and  she  pictured  Gaunt  keeping  order  in  the  cabin, 
standing  on  the  deck  with  a  child  in  his  arms,  giving  up 
his  place  in  the  boat  to  that  other  man,  and  then  waiting 
and  watching  with  that  calm  self-possession,  which  was 
Gaunt's  birthright,  for  the  end. 

And  they  thought  this  man  who  had  given  his  life  for 
others  capable  of  murder  ! 

It  may  have  been  wicked  of  him  to  make  her  love  him, 
ah  !  he  had  not  made  her  love  him  !  It  was  wicked  to 
ask  her  to  go  away  with  him,  the  husband  of  another 
woman  ;  but  was  not  some  of  the  blame  hers  ?  And  how 
nobly  he  had  atoned ! 

She  tried  to  picture  him  lying  dead  upon  some  wild 
shore,  and  a  craving  envy  of  his  fate  took  possession  of 
her. 

"If  I  had  only  been  there  to  die  with  him  !  "  broke 
from  her  trembling  lips.  "  Oh,  my  love  !  my  love !  How 
shall  I  live  without  you — how  shall  I  ?  " 

The  tears  came  at  last  to  ease  her  aching  heart,  and 
they  were  running  down  her  face  unheeded  when  Lady 
Pauline  came  back  to  her. 

She  slept  that  night  and  dreamed.  She  saw  Gaunt 
standing  on  the  deck  watching  the  last  boat  leave  the 
ship's  side ;  she  saw  him  with  the  child  in  his  arms,  but 
in  every  vision  of  him  he  was  alive,  and  her  imagination 
could  not  conceive  of  him  as  dead. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THREE  days  afterward  they  took  Decima  home  to  the 
Woodbines,  Lady  Pauline  went  with  her,  and  she  bore 
the  journey  very  well. 

Her  father  received  them  in  a  kind  of  stupor. 

"  Dear,  dear !  how — pale  and  thin  she  is  !  "  he  said  to 
Lady  Pauline.  "  I'm — I'm  afraid  she  has  been  ill !  There 
seems  to  be  nothing  but  trouble  !  I  don't  know  whether 
you  know  poor  Lord  Gaunt,  Pauline — 

He  stopped  and  tugged  at  his  hair  in  a  bewildered  way. 
"  Most  terrible  affair — most  terrible  ending !  I — I  scarce 
know  the  details,  though  Bobby,  who  appears  to  have 
been  mixed  up  in  the  business  in  some  extraordinary 
fashion,  which  I  cannot  understand,  has  been  endeavoring 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  181 

to  tell  me.  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  a  man  of  his 
position  and  culture  can  have  been  guilty  of  a  peculiarly 
brutal  murder;  but  Mr.  Mershon  is  convinced  of  his 
guilt — and  the  verdict  of  the  coroner's  inquest —  He 

stopped  and  looked  about  him  helplessly.  "  And  Mr. 
Mershon  tells  me  that — that  Decima  has  broken  off  her 
engagement  to  him.  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Lady  Pauline. 

Mr.  Deane  ruffled  his  hair  again,  and  edged  to  the  door. 

"  I'm — I'm  afraid  Mr.  Mershon  feels  it  rather  acutely. 
You — you  know  that  there  have  been  business  relations 
between  us  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Lady  Pauline,  in  her  direct  way.  "You 
have  lost  a  great  deal  of  money,  have  you  not,  Peter?" 

"  Yes ;  I'm  afraid  so.  I  scarcely  know.  I  thought  that 
the  loss  had  been  recouped,  or — or  provided  for  in  some 
way ;  but  Robert  tells  me  that — that  it  is  not  so,  and  that 
I  am  still  liable." 

"  I  may  be  able  to  help  you,"  said  Lady  Pauline. 

Bobby,  who  had  entered  the  room  in  time  to  hear  the 
last  part  of  the  conversation,  shook  his  head  gloomily. 

"  Xo,"  he  said.  "  It  is  too  large  a  sum.  I'm  afraid  we 
are  up  a  tree,  Lady  Pauline.  I've  just  seen  Mr.  Mershon ; 
he  wants  to  see  Decima.  I  told  him  that  she  wasn't  fit, 
and,  well,  I  hinted  that  it  wouldn't  be  the  least  use  his 
seeing  her.  Decie  knows  her  own  mind,  and  once  it's 
made  up —  Ah,  yes,  it's  all  over  between  Mershon  and 
her.  And,  well,  I'm  glad  it  is,  though,"  he  added,  inaud- 
ibly,  "  there  will  be  the  devil  to  pay  over  these  bills ! 
But  I  don't  seem  able  to  think  of  anything  but  poor 
Gaunt!"  he  said,  aloud.  "I've  just  met  Bright.  He's 
terribly  cut  up ;  but  somehow  he  can't  bring  himself  to 
believe  that  Gaunt  is  dead.  The  next  in  succession  is  a 
cousin  of  Gaunt's.  He  is  traveling  abroad  just  now,  but 
Pelford  &  Lang  have  written  to  him.  There's  no  end  of 
excitement  in  the  village.  Gaunt  was  more  popular  than 
one  would  have  thought,  and  some  of  the  women  cried 
when  they  talked  to  me  about  him.  One  and  all  abso- 
lutely decline  to  believe  him  guilty  of — of—  They  are  all 
very  sorry  for  Decie's  illness.  She's  the  Lady  Bountiful 
of  the  village,  you  know." 

Lady  Pauline  inclined  her  head. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  And — and  it  was  she  who  egged  Gaunt  on  to  under- 
taking all  the  improvements  that  have  been  made.  Poor 
Gaunt ! " 

Bobby's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  turned  from  the 
foom. 

i  The  next  morning  Decima  came  downstairs.  She  was 
very  pale  and  thin,  and  very  weak  still,  and  she  looked 
but  the  ghost  of  herself  as  she  sat  in  a  low  chair  by  the 
fire. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  are  strong  enough  to  leave  your 
room,  Decima  ?  "  asked  Lady  Pauline  ;  and  Decima  had 
turned  her  face  to  her  with  a  shadowy  smile. 

"  Yes,  aunt.  I — I  want  to  take  up  my  life  again,  as — 
as  if  nothing  had  happened.  They — father  and  Bobby-- 
need me."  Her  voice  broke  for  a  moment.  "  I  cannot  lie 
there  and  think,  think  any  longer  !  I  want  something  to 
do,  something  that  will  help  me  to  forget.  But,  ah  !  no, 
no,  I  shall  never  forget !  " 

How  could  it  be  possible  for  her  to  forget  the  man  Avho 
had  loved  her  and  whom  she  had  loved  with  all  her  heart 
and  soul ;  or  cease  to  remember  with  anguish  that  he  had 
gone  to  his  death  with  the  charge  of  murder  hanging  over 
him  ? 

In  the  afternoon,  as  she  was  standing  at  the  window  look- 
ing sadly  at  the  bare  trees  swaying  in  the  wind,  she  saw 
Mr.  Mershou  open  the  gate  and  come  up  the  path. 

Her  hand  went  to  her  heart,  and  she  looked  around  as  if 
for  help.  Lady  Pauline  had  gone  to  the  village  with 
Bobbj7.  There  was  no  one  to  help  her.  Well,  it  was 
part  of  her  burden,  and  she  must  carry  it.  She  rang  the 
bell. 

"  Tell  Mr.  Mershon  I  will  see  him,"  she  said. 

She  did  not  go  back  to  her  chair,  but  stood  by  the  win- 
dow waiting;  and  the  light  was  full  upon  her  face  as  he 
entered.  To  him  she  looked  more  lovely  than  ever,  with 
the  sadness  in  the  violet  gray  eyes  and  the  ethereal  pal- 
lor of  the  girlish  face.  His  eyes  fell  before  hers  as  she  re- 
garded him  steadily,  and  his  hand  shook  as  he  took  the 
one  she  held  out  to  him.  For  a  moment  he  lost  his  pres- 
ence of  mind,  and  no  word  of  the  speech  he  had  prepared 
would  come.  Then,  with  an  effort,  he  mastered  his  emo- 
tion, and  said,  almost  abruptly  : 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.         ,  183 

"  You're  better,  Decima '?  I'm  very  glad  ;  I— I  wanted 
to  see  you.  I've  had  tin  anxious  time,  and — and — you're 
sure  you're  better  ?  "  he  broke  off,  raising  his  eyes  for  an 
instant  to  the  white  face.  % 

"  Yes,"  said  Decima.  "  I'm  sorry  you  should  have  been- 
anxious,  and  I  am  glad  you  have  come."  •  .'> 

"  Of  course  I  should  come  the  very  first  moment,"  he' 
said.  At  sight  of  her  all  his  passion  revived,  and  he  felt 
that  he  would  move  heaven  and  earth  to  keep  her.  "  Of 
course  they— *Lacly  Pauline  told  me,  gave  me  your  mes- 
sage ;  but  I  needn't  say,  Decima,  that  I  didn't  attach  any 
importance  to  it.  You— you  ;  very  likely  you  didn't 
know  what  you  were  saying  when  you  sent  me  word  that 
you  wanted  to  break  with  me." 

"  Yes,"  said  Decima.  "  I  was  quite  conscious,  Mr. 
MershonJ" 

Her  voice  was  low,  but  its  steadiness  surprised  even 
herself. 

"  You  were '?  "  he  said  huskily.  "  Then — then  I  suppose 
you  said  what  you  did  because  you  thought  I  should  be  an- 
noyed, riled,  at  your  being  mixed  up  with — with  this  af- 
fair of  Lord  Gaimt's  !  Of  course,  I — it  was  very  natural 
that  I  should  want  an  explanation ;  that  I  should  want 
to  hear  all  about  your  visit  to  his  rooms  and — and  what 
took  place  between  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  Decima,  quite  calmly.  "  It  was  your  right. 
It  is  so  no  longer.  But,"  she  went  on  as-he  opened  his 
lips.  "  I  will  tell  you,  because  you  will  then  see  how — 
how  impossible  it  was  that  I  should  have  refrained  from 
sending  you  my  message.  I  went  to  see  Bobby." 

"  I  know,"  he  said,  eagerly. 

"  And  Lord  Gaunt  came  in." 

A.s  she  spoke  his  name  her  eyes  closed  for  an  instant, 
and  her  hand  slid  along  the  edge  of  the  wall  as  if  she  were 
striving  some  support. 

"And  you  were  together  there,"  he  said,  nodding 
gloomily.  "  What — what  passed  between  you  ?  Don't 
tell  me  if  you  don't  like.  I'm  content  to  let  bygones  be 
bygones,  Decima." 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  she  said.  Her  lips  were  quivering, 
but  she  steadied  them.  "  Lord  Gaunt  told  me  that  he 
loved  me." 


184  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Mershon  started,  and  his  face  became  black. 

"  The  villain  ! "  he  muttered. 

Decima's  face  grew  crimson,  and  her  eyes  flashed.  She 
turned  away  as  if  she  would  not  say  another  word  ;  then, 
suddenly,  she  faced  him  again. 

"  He  told  me  that  he  loved  me.  And  I "  Her  voice 

broke  for  an  instant,  but  she  went  on  painfully.  "  I  knew 
that  I  loved  him,  for  a  long  time.  I  shall  love  him  while 
life  lasts ! " 

There  were  no  tears  in  her  eyes,  "and  they  met  his  furi- 
ous gaze  unflinchingly,  almost  as  if  she  did  not  see  him, 
or  had  forgotten  his  presence. 

"  And  you  can  tell  me  this  !  "  he  stammered,  huskily; 
*'  You  can  confess  that  you  love  a  man  who  was  married 
already — a  man  who  has  committed  a  dastardly  murder  !" 

Decima's  hand  went  to  her  heart. 

"  He  did  not  do  it ! "  she  said.     "  I  know  it !  " 

Mershon  sneered. 

"  Oh,  I've  no  doubt  they  have  kept  the  story  from  you, 
or  as  much  of  it  as  they  could ;  you  haven't  read  the 
evidence." 

"  Yes,  every  word,"  she  said.  There  was  a  strange  light 
in  her  eyes,  and  her  voice  seemed  to  have  gained  a  sudden 
strength.  "  Every  word ;  and  still  I  say  that  he  was 
innocent !  I  know  it !  " 

He  glanced  at  her  angrily. 

"  It  is  a  lucky  thing  for  him  that  he  escaped  having  to 
face  a  jury,"  he  said,  with  a  sneer. 

Her  lips  quivered,  and  her  eyes  closed,  and  a  low  ex- 
clamation of  anguish  broke  from  her  involuntarily. 

"  Even — even  if  he  had  lived  and  they  had  found  him 
guilty ;  even  if  I  were  convinced  that  he  had  done  it — 

She  stopped  and  looked  beyond  him,  as  if  she  did  not 
see  him. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  demanded. 

She  lowered  her  eyes  to  his  face. 

"  I  should  love  him  still ! "  came  slowly  from  her  white 
lips. 

Mershon's  rage  and  jealousy  overmastered  him. 

"  You  must  be  mad  !  "  he  said,  hoarsely.  "  After  that 
shameless  confession  there's  nothing  for  me  but  to  take 
myself  oft' !  " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  185 

He  snatched  up  his  hat  and  looked  toward  the  door ; 
then  his  eyes  seemed  drawn  toward  her  unwillingly.  "  I 
- — I  suppose  you  have  counted  the  cost  of — of  this  rupture 
of  our  engagement?"  he  stammered.  "  You  don't  forget 
that  your  father  owes  me  a  large  sum  of  money  ?  Perhaps 
your  brother — your  precious  brother,"  he  sneered,  "  has 
made  the  consequences  pretty  plain  to  you  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  as  if  she  were  trying  to  attend,  to 
understand. 

"  I  see  you  do,"  he  said.  "  Well,  of  course,  I  stand  to 
my  word,  and  I  expected  you  to  stand  by  ypurs.  I  under- 
took in  the  event  of  your  marrying  me  to  assume  your 
father's  liablities  and  to  provide  for  your  brother ;  as  the 
marriage  is  off — as  you  break  the  engagement,  and— and 
— insult  me  by  the  statement  you  have  just  made,  you 
can't  expect  me  to  carry  out  my  part  of  the  contract. 
You  understand  enough  of  business  to  comprehend  that  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  understand,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  "I  am 
sorry — yes,  I  am  sorry — that  I  cannot  marry  you.  But 
I  cannot !  It  would  have  been  hard  before,  but  now " 

She  turned  away,  as  if  she  felt  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  him  to  understand  what  that  now  meant ;  and 
Mershon,  with  an  almost  audible  oath,  left  the  room. 

His  dogcart  was  waiting  for  him,  and  he  leaped  into  it 
and  drove  home  to  the  Firs  at  a  gallop.  As  he  tore  up 
the  steps  and  entered  the  hall,  his  sister  came  out  from 
the  drawing-room.  She  held  a  telegram  in  her  hand,  but 
in  his  fury  he  did  not  see  it. 

.   "  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  demanded,  for  she  had  on 
her  outdoor  things. 

"  I — I  was  going  to  the  Woodbines  to — to  inquire  for 
Decima — to  see  if  she  were  well  enough  to  see  me  ?  "  she 
faltered. 

"  Then  you  won't  do  anything  of  the  sort !  "  he  snarled. 
*'  You  won't  go  there  again  !  Do  you  hear  ?  " 

"  What — what  has  happened,  Theodore  ?  "  she  asked, 
timidly. 

"  The  engagement  is  broken  off,"  he  said,  huskily,  as  he 
flung  his  hat  aside,  and  drew  his  hand  across  his  sweat- 
covered  brow.  "  She's — she's  behaved  shamefully  !  She's 
disgraced  herself !  She's  not  fit  for  a  decent  man  to 
marry.  She " 


1H-  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

The  words  seemed  to  choke  him  and  he  broke  off  with 
an  oath. 

••  But  I'll  punish  her  !  I'll  punish  her  !  I've  got  that  old 
fool  of  a  father  of  hers  under  my  thumb — and  that  young 
ruffian,  the  brother  !  I'll  punish  her  through  them."  Yes, 
by  God  !  I'll  have  them  turned  out  into  the  street  within 
a  week !  I've  told  Gilsby  to  act ! " 

"  Oh,  Theodore !  "  she  faltered.  "  Poor  child — poor 
child !  You  will  not ! " 

"Won't  I?"  he  broke  in,  with  a  malignant  sneer. 
"Poor  child  !  A  pretty  child  !  To  admit,  to  boast,  that 
if — if  that  beast  were  proved  guilty  she'd  love  him  still ! 
What !  do  you  think  I'm  a  dog,  a  cur,  to  be  kicked  aside 
and  not  resent  it  ?  I'll  have  my  revenge  !  I'll  turn  them 
into  the  street.  What  the  devil  are  you  crying  and 
trembling  at  ?  Here— what's  that  V  " 

He  snatched  the  telegram  from  her  hand  and  tore 
open  the  envelope. 

She  was  going  back  to  the  drawing-room,  when  she 
heard  him  utter  a  cry,  a  cry  of  rage  and  baffled  fury,  and 
she  turned  back. 

Mrrshon  was  leaning  against  the  wall  glaring  at  the 
telegram.  He  raised  his  head  presently,  and  his  lips 
moved,  but  no  sound  came.  The  telegram  fell  from  his 
hand,  and,  in  fear  and  trembling  she  went  forward  and 
picked  it  up.  He  did  not  prevent  her,  and  she  read  the 
wire.  It  was  from  Mr.  Gilsby,  the  lawyer,  and  it  ran 
thus : 

"  All  D.  's  bills  met.  Some  one  has  undertaken  to 
discharge  all  his  liabilities.  Will  write." 

Mershon  seemed  to  awaken  from  his  stupor,  and  snatch- 
ing the  telegram  from  her,  he  went  upstairs.  She 
watched  him  for  a  moment,  then  her  lips  moved  and  she 
breathed  softly  : 

"Thank  God!" 

Mershon  as  he  went  unsteadily  up  the  stairs,  holding  by 
the  balustrade,  and  stumbling  now  and  again  like  a  man 
smitten  with  palsy,  had  no  need  to  ask  who  the  "  some 
one"  was.  He  knew  that  Gaunt  had  stretched  out  a 
hand  from  the  grave  as  it  were,  to  shield  and  protect  the 
girl  he  loved. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  Is? 

On  the  evening  of  the  same  day  Mr.  Pelford  was  ar- 
ranging his  papers  on  his  desk,  preparatory  to  going  home. 

He  had  had  a  particularly  hard  day,  and  looked  tired 
and  \vorried,  and  as  the  door  opened  and  his  partner  Mr. 
Lang,  put  his  head  round  it,  Mr.  Pelford  glanced  up  with 
a  frown.  . 

"  Xearly  ready  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Lang. 

They  both  had  handsome  houses  at  Dulwich,  and  when 
practicable  and  convenient,  journeyed  homeward  to- 
gether. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so,"  replied  the  senior  partner  with  a 
sigh.  "  I'll  just  indorse  these  letters.  Xo  news,  I  sup- 
pose?" 

"  News  "  had  come  to  mean  to  Messrs.  Pelford  &  Lang 
tidings  of  their  client,  Lord  Gaunt. 

Mr.  Lang  shook  his  head. 

"  Xo ;  none.  I'm  afraid  that  it  is  hopeless  to  expect 
any  now.  He  must  have  been  lost." 

Mr.  Pelford  nodded  and  sighed. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  Though,  after  all,  I'm  afraid  one  ought 
to  feel  more  relief  than  regret  at  his  death.  lie  might 
have  ended  so — so  much  worse." 

Mr.  Lang  assented  with  a  gesture. 

"  I've  written  to  young  Lord  Xaseby,  the  next  heir — 
Lord  Gaunt,  I  suppose  he  is  now;  but  I'm  doubtful 
whether  my  letter  will  reach  him.  What  a  singular  thing 
it  is — this  love  of  travel  and  wandering  running  through 
the  family !  Oh,  and,  Lang,  that  fellow,  Thorpe,  has  been 
sgain  to-day ! " 

"  Oh  ?     What  did  you  do  ?  " 

'•Well,  I'm  afraid  it  was  weak,"  replied  the  senior  part- 
ner, apologetically,  "but  I  advanced  him  some  money  to 
take  him  out  of  the  country." 

"  You  did  !  " 

';  Well,  yes !  You  see,  if  Lord  Gaunt — I  mean  our 
Gaunt — should  turn  up  ;  but  that's  impossible.  Anyway, 
the  next  Gaunt  will  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  the  fellow.  lie 
has  spent  the  time  since  the  inquest  going  the  round  of 
any  of  the  clubs  that  would  admit  him  and  telling  the 
story  of  his  and  his  sister's  wrongs." 

"  In  exchange  for  free  drinks,  I  suppose  ? "  said  Mr. 
Lang. 


188  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Er — yes.  So  I  gave  him  enough  to  take  him  to  Monte 
Carlo." 

"  Where  it  is  to  be  hoped  he  will  remain  !  "  remarked 
Mr.  Lang. 

Mr.  Pelford  indorsed  the  last  letter,  rose  with  a  sigh 
and  took  his  overcoat  from  the  peg  behind  the  door. 

"  Did  you  see  Mr.  Gilsby  ?  "  he  inquired,  with  an  accent 
on  the  name  which  Mr.  Gilsby  would  not  have  enjoyed 
hearing. 

"  Yes !  "  Mr.  Lang  smiled.  "  I  never  saw  before  in  my 
whole  life  a  man  sorry  at  receiving  money  !  And  Mr. 
Gilsby  was  very  sorry,  there  is  no  doubt  of  that.  It  is 
evident  that  that  man  Mershon  was  bent  on  ruining  the 
Deanes." 

Mr.  Pelford  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  little  weary 
gesture.  He  had  had  a  hard  day,  and  any  reference  to 
Lord  Gaunt's  affairs  reminded  him  of  the  trouble  and 
anxiety  the  murder  in  the  Prince's  Mansions  had  caused 
him. 

"  The  whole  affair  is  a  mystery,"  he  said  ;  "  but  it  is 
very  evident  that  Mr.  Mershon  hated  poor  Lord  Gaunt." 

"And  of  course  the  young  lady,  Miss  Deane,  was  the 
reason,"  said -Mr.  Lang.  "There  are  your  gloves  on  that 
deed  case." 

"  Oh,  thanks,  thanks  !  I  feel  so  worried  !  Are  you 
ready  ?  If  so  I'll  turn  out  the  g 

He  had  his  hand  on  the  key  when  they  both  heard  a 
step  on  the  stairs.  All  the  clerks  had  gone,  and  the  two 
principals  were  alone  in  the  office. 

••  Xow,  who  can  that  be?"  said  Mr.  Pelford,  testily. 
"  Whoever  it  is  I  shall  not  stay.  We  shall  lose  our  train." 

The  footsteps  stopped  outside  the  door  and  there  came 
a  knock. 

"  Open  the  door,  Lang,  and  tell  them  that  we  cannot 
stay,"  said  Mr.  Pelford. 

Mr.  Lang  opened  the  door.  Then  he  uttered  an  ex- 
clamation and  fell  back,  and  (Taunt  walked  in. 

Mr.  Pelford  dropped  his  hat  on  the  desk  and  it  rolled, 
unheeded  to  the  floor. 

"  Lord  Gaunt !  "  he  gasped,  and  he  stared  and  gaped  at 
the  tall  figure  and  haggard  face. 

"  How  do  you   do,  Mr.  Pelford  ?  "   said  Gaunt,  quietly ' 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  189 

— very  quietly — with  that  self-possession  and  sang-froid 
which  had  often  astonished  his  legal  advisers  and  not 
seldom  puzzled  and  annoyed  them.  "  How  do  you  do, 
Mr.  Lang  ?  I  am  afraid  I  am  late " 

"  Good  God !  my  lord,  do  you  know — !  When  did  you 
come  ?  Where  ?  "  demanded  Mr.  Pelford. 

Gaunt  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

"  One  moment,"  he  said ;  "  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question. 
Is  Miss  Deane  in  London  ? " 

"  Miss  Deane !  "  echoed  Mr.  Pelford,  amazed  at  the 
question  at  such  a  moment. 

"  Yes ;  where  is  she  ?  " 

"  Er — er — Miss  Deane  is — is  at  home,  at  Leafmore,  I 
believe.  But,  oh,  Lord  Gaunt,  where  did  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  Is  she  well  ?  "  broke  in  Gaunt,  almost  sternly. 

The  lawyers  stared  at  him. 

"Er — er — yes.  That  is — she  is  better.  She  has  been 
ill."  Gaunt's  face  worked.  "  But  she  is  better.  She  is  at 
home.  But — but,  good  God  !  my  lord,  where  have  you 
come  from?  What — why— 

"From  Southampton,"  said  Gaunt,  quietly,  vouchsafing 
the  information  now  that  he  had  learned  something  of 
Decima. 

"  From  Southampton  !  "  gasped  Mr.  Pelford.  "  Then — 
then  you  were  saved  ?  You  are  alive  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Gaunt,  as  quietly  as  before.  "  I  was  picked 
up  by  a  yacht,  the  Sea  Wolf,  and  the  owner  kindly 
turned  back  and  landed  me  in  England." 

The  two  partners  exchanged  glances,  the  sharp,  legal 
glance. 

"  Then — then,  perhaps  you  do  not  know — that  is — you 
have  not  learned  that — that " 

Gaunt  regarded  him  gravely. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  saw  the  account  in  a  newspaper  on 
board  the  yacht.  You  said  that  Miss  Deane  was  better. 
Do  you  mean  that  she  is  out  of  danger  ?  I  gathered  that 
she  had  been  very  ill  ?  " 

Mr.  Pelford  ignored  the  question. 

"Then — then  you  know  that — that — Won't  you  sit 
clown,  my  lord  ?  Lang,  there  is  a  small  flask  of  brandy 
in  the  corner  of  the  safe ;  perhaps  his  lordship " 


190  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Gaunt  declined  the  small  flask  of  brandy  which  Mr, 
Lang  proffered. 

"  I  know,"  he  said. 

"  That— that  a  murder  was  committed  and  that " 

Mr.  IV!  ford  could  not  go  on. 

"  That  I  am  deemed  guilty,  yes,  yes,"  said  Gaunt,  as 
quietly  as  before.  "  I  did  not  do  it.  "Who  did  'J.  " 

Mr.  Pelford  sank  into  his  chair.  He  had,  he  thought, 
grown  accustomed  to  the  Gaunt  sang-froid,  but  he  felt 
that  lie  was  mistaken ;  this  surpassed  all  his  previous  ex- 
perience. 

"  You — you  did  not  ?  "  he  stammered. 

"  Xo  !  "  said  Gaunt,  not  sternly,  but  quite  coolly  and 
gravely.  "I  may  be  a  fool,  but  I  am  not  fool  enough  to 
commit  a  murder  and  then  cover  my  victim  with  my  own 
coat." 

Mr.  Pelford  gasped  for  breath. 

"  IJut— but  you  are  aware  my  lord,  that  there  is  a  ver- 
dict of  wilful  murder  against  you  ;  that — that  there  is  a 
warrant  for  your  arrest?"  he  stammered. 

"Yes,"  said  Gaunt,  quietly.  "And  I  have  come  back 
to  meet  the  charge.  There  was  a  policeman  outside  as  I 
came  up.  Shall  I  call  him  ?  " 

He  went  to  the  window,  but  Mr.  Lang  seized  him  by 
the  arm  and  drew  him  back. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

MR.  LAXG  dragged  Gaunt  from  the  window  and  almost 
forced  him  into  a  chair. 

"  For  God's  sake,  don't — don't  do  anything  rash,  Lord 
Gaunt !  "  he  said.  "  Give  us  time  to — to  think,  to  con- 
sider !  " 

Doth  partners  were  very  much  agitated  and  not  without 
reason.  It  was  as  if  a  ghost  had  walked  into  the  room. 

Gaunt  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  It  must  be  sooner  or  later  ;  why  not  to-night  ?  "  In 

His  coolness  and  indifference  almost  exasperated  Mr. 
Pelford. 

"You  do  lint  ajiurar  to  realize  the  gravity  of  your 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  191 

tion,  Lord  Gaunt !  "  he  said  agitatedly.  "  Perhaps  it  will 
help  you  to  do  so  when  I  say — gravely  and  emphatically 
— that — that  we  are  sorry  to  see  you  here." 

"  You  cannot  be  more  sorry  than  I  am,"  said  Gaunt, 
quietly.  "  It  would  be  better  for  me  if  I  were  lying  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sea,.  But  I  am  alive,  and  on  land  and  the 
music  had  to  be  faced." 

He  spoke  almost  cheerfully.  Xow  that  he  had  heard 
that  Decima  was  safe  at  the  Woodbines  and  better,  noth- 
ing else  seemed  to  matter  much ;  certainly  nothing  that 
concerned  himself. 

"  I  can't  understand  how  you  have  been  able — been  per- 
mitted— to  reach  us  !  "  said  Mr.  Pelford. 

Gaunt  shook  his  head. 

"  I  suppose  the  police  have  given  me  up  for  dead,"  he 
said.  "  I  expected  to  find  some  one  waiting  to  arrest  me 
at  Southampton ;  but  I  was  not  stopped  or  interfered  with. 
I  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  here,  for  the  owner  of  the 
yacht — a  good  fellow— wanted  to  carry  me  off  to  some 
place  where  there  was  no  extradition  treaty.  He  thinks  me 
innocent,  notwithstanding  the  evidence." 

"  I  wish  he  had  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pelford.  "  Seriously, 
Lord  Gaunt,  the  evidence  is — is " 

"  Very  strong!  "  said  Mr.  Lang  under  his  breath. 

Gaunt  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"Do  you  mind  my  smoking?  Thanks."  He  lit  a 
cigarette.  "  I  have  read  it  all ;  there  was  a  newspaper, 
several,  on  board  the  Sea  Wolf,  and  I  got  all  I  could  at 
Southampton.  Yes,  it  is  black  enough."  He  paused. 
"  I  suppose  nine  persons  out  of  ten,  ninety-nine  out  of  a 
hundred,  would  consider  me  guilty  ?  " 

Mr.  Pelford  was  a  truthful  man,  and  did  not  reply. 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  do  ?  " 

Gaunt  put  the  question  quietly  and  without  a  trace  of 
resentment. 

Mr.  Pelford  looked  at  him  in  silence  for  what  seemed  a 
long  time  ;  then  he  said  : 

"  No !  " 

"  Thanks,"  said  Gaunt.  "  No,  I  am  not  guilty  ;  and  yet 
all  the  evidence  is  true  and  unstrained,  I  suppose  many  a 
man  has  been  hanged  on  less  ?  " 

Mr.  Lang  shuddered. 


192  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

u  For  God's  sake,  don't — don't  take  it  so  coolly,  Lord 
Gaunt!  "  he  said. 

Gaunt  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  he  asked,  as  if  his 
thoughts  had  taken  quite  another  direction  : 

"  Did  you  attend  to  that  matter  of  Mr.  Deane's  ?  Dis- 
charge his  debts  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes!  "  said  Mr.  Pelford,  almost  impatiently. 
"We  carried  out  your  instructions,  my  lord.  Mr. 
Deane's  liabilities  are  discharged,  provided  for,  at  any 
rate." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Gaunt.  "  And  now,  gentlemen,  I 
am  at  your  disposal.  I  am  rather  tired  ;  I  have  not 
slept  much  of  late." 

The  partners  conferred  in  whispers,  then  Mr.  Pelford 
said  : 

"  Is  there  any  place  in  which  you  could  spend  the 
night  undisturbed,  Lord  Gaunt?  Will  you  come  home 
with  one  of  us  ?  " 

Gaunt  thought  for  a  moment. 

"  Thank  you  very  much  ;  but  I  don't  think  that  would 
be  very  wise  of  you.  Wouldn't  it  be  rather  unprofes- 
sional— harboring  a  criminal  ?  I  don't  know  anything  of 
the  law  regarding  such  matters,  but  I've  an  idea  that 
you  would  run  the  risk  of  unpleasantness.  No  ;  thanks  ! 
I'll  go  to  Morlet's.  They  know  me,  and — "  he  smiled— 
"  will  give  me  shelter  for  to-night.  To-morrow  I  will 
give  myself  up  after  breakfast,  if  I'm  permitted  to  get 
through  that  meal  in  liberty." 

The  partners  assented  to  this. 

"  We  have  got  Sir  James,  Lord  Gaunt,"  said  Mr.  Pel- 
ford,  "  and  I  need  scarcely  say  that  he  will  do  all  he  can. 
He  is  the  very  best  man.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Boskett  ap- 
peared against  us  at  the  inquest.  lie  was  retained  by 
Mr.  Mershon." 

Gaunt  had  heard  of  the  famous  Old  Bailey  barrister. 
He  smiled  grimly. 

"  I  understand,"  he  said. 

"  But  do  you  ? "  demanded  Mr.  Pelford,  desperately. 
"  Do  you  realize  the — the  awful  position  in  which  you 
stand,  Lord  Gaunt  ?  " 

Gaunt  got  up  from  the  chair  and  lit  a  fresh  cigarette. 

"  I  think  so,"  he  said.     "  At  any  rate,  I  know  that  you 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  193 

will  do  your  best  for  me,  Mr.  Pelforcl  ;  and  I  am  grate- 
ful. I  will  go  now.  You  said  that  Miss  Deane  was — 
was  better?" 

"  Yes,  yes,"  replied  Mr.  Pelford,  impatiently.  "  We 
will  go  with  you  to  the  hotel." 

"  Xo,  do  not,"  said  Gaunt.  "  You  are  better  known 
than  I  am,  and  might  attract  attention,  and,  candidly,  I 
should  like  to  spend  to-night  in  a  comfortable  bed,  even  if 
I  do  not  sleep.  Good-night.  Come  to  me  in  the  morning. 
If  I  am  arrested  before  you  come  I  will  send  for  you." 

He  shook  hands  with  them  and  went  with  his  light, 
firm  step  down  the  stairs. 

The  two  lawyers  gasped  at  each  other  in  blank  dismay. 

"I  always  said  that  there  was  madness  in  the  family  ! " 
exclaimed  Mr.  Pelford.  "  He  takes  it  as  coolly  as  if — if. 
it  Avere  a  case  of  '  a  month  or  forty  shillings  ! ' ' 

"  I  don't  believe  he  did  it !  "  remarked  Mr.  Lang. 

"Then  who  did?  "  retorted  Mr.  Pelford  ;  and  Mr. 
Lang  could  not  answer. 

Gaunt  went  clown  into  the  street.  His  coolness  and 
sang-froid  had  been  quite  free  from  affectation.  Now 
that  Decima  was  better,  it  did  not  in  the  very  least  de- 
gree matter  what  became  of  him.  The  lamps  had  been 
lit,  and  the  streets  of  the  largest  and  wealthiest  city  in 
the  world  were  wrapped  in  their  usual  gloom.  That 
same  gloom  which  is  one  of  the  things  which  fill  the 
intelligent  foreigner,  visiting  our  land  for  the  first  time, 
with  amazement  and  dismay. 

It  was  rather  a  long  walk  from  Pelford  &  Lang's  office 
to  Morlet's,  but  Gaunt  welcomed  it.  It  gave  him  time 
to  think.  Mr.  Dobson,  notwithstanding  the  evidence 
against  Gaunt,  had  been  so  assured  of  his  innocence  that 
he  had  tried,  with  flattering  eagerness,  to  dissuade  Gaunt 
from  returning  to  England  and  giving  himself  up  ;  but 
Gaunt  had  refused  to  be  dissuaded.  The  Gaunts,  what- 
ever their  sins — and,  as  a  family,  they  were  peculiarly 
rich  in  this  respect — had  never  lacked  courage,  and  Gaunt 
had  resolved  to  "  face  the  music." 

He  insisted  upon  Mr.  Dobson  making  for  Southampton, 
and  Mr.  Dobson  had  at  last,  driven  to  it  by  entreaties 
and  arguments,  consented. 

As  to  the  result  of  his  surrender  Gaunt  was  perfectly/ 


194  HER  IIEAirrs  DESI1JE. 

indifferent.  He  was  weary  of  the  game  which  wo  Ia1>el 
"  life,"  and  though  he  would  have  preferred  to  finish  it 
>me  other  place  than  on  the  scaffold,  he  did  not  care 
very  much  so  that  it  were  finished.  He  had  lost  Decima 
forever,  and  for  him  life  with  all  i 
over. 

Leaving  Pelford  &  Lang's  offices,  he  walked  slowly  and 
thoughtfully  toward  Morlet's  hot 

A>  he  turned  the  corner  hy   1  Jerry  5 
ran  against  a  man  who  was  slouching' along    tl. 
nii-iit.     The  man  wa.s  walking  with  a  peculiar,  dragging 
gait,  and  had  his  coat  collar  turned  up,  and  his   hands 
thrust  in  his  pockets.     For  an  instant  it  struck  Gaunt 
that  there  was  something  familiar  to  him  in  the  manner 
of  the  man,  and  as   he,  Gaunt,  muttered  "  Pardon  !  "  he 
looked  after  him.     The  man  made  no  response  and  Gaunt 
walked,  on. 

Presently  he  heard  footsteps  behind  him. 

••  A  detective,-' lie  said  to  himself.  "I  shall  not  sleep 
in  a  comfortable  bed  to-night,  after  all." 

He  walked  on.  The  footsteps  behind  him  grew  close, 
and  Gaunt,  almost  at  the  entrance  to  Morlet's  pulled  up 
short,  and  glanced  round.  The  man  who  had  been  follow- 
ing him  pulled  up  as  shortly  and  the  two  looked  at  each 
other  in  the  light  of  the  street  lamp. 

Gaunt  recognized  the  "shadow,"  and  was  the  fir- 
speak. 

"  Jackson  !  "  he  said. 

The  man  started,  hung   his  head,  then  raised  i: 
looked  at  Gaunt  with  a  dull,  vacant  intensity. 

••  "Why,  it  is  you,  Jackson!"  said  Gaunt.  '•  How  did 
you  come  here  ?  I'm  glad  to  see  you  !  " 

Mr.  Jackson's  lips  moved  as  if  he  found  it  difficult  to 
articulate. 

"I — I  thought  it  was  you,  and  so — sol  followed,"  he 
said.  "  I  landed  at  Portsmouth  this  morning.  I  only 
reached  London  this  afternoon." 

Now  there  is  no  one  for  whom  you  feel  a  keener  in- 
terest than  the  man  whose  life  you  have  saved  at  the  risk 
of  your  own;  and  Gaunt,  notwithstanding  his  natural 
reserve,  felt  pity  toward  this  waif  and  stray.  So,  ho 
regarded  Jackson  with  a  frank  smile  of  welcome. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  195 

"  I  read  of  your  safe  landing  at  Mogador,"  he  said. 

Jackson  nodded,  and  looked  from  side  to  side  in  an  ab- 
stracted fashion. 

"  Yes ;  they  took  us  to  the  Canaries,  and  the  mail 
steamer  brought  us  back  to  England." 

"  But  you  wanted  to  go  to  Africa  ?  "  remarked  Gaunt. 

Jackson  gazed  up  at  the  leaden  London  sky,  and  then 
at  the  nearest  lamp. 

"Yes,  I  did.     But  it  didn't  matter." 

"  Not  matter !  "  said  Gaunt.  He  looked  at  the  man 
attentively.  Jackson  seemed  thinner  than  he  had  been 
on.  board  the  Pevensey  Castle.  His  face  was  white,  his 
eyelids  red  and  swollen,  and  his  bearing  and  manner 
those  of  a  man  who  has  been  drinking  heavily,  or  is  very 
ill. 

u  Xo,"  .said  Jackson,  dully ;  "  it  didn't  matter." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Gaunt. 

It  seemed  to  him  that,  having  saved  the  man's  life  he 
was,  in  a  sense,  responsible  for  his  future  welfare. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Jackson,  indifferently. 

"  You'd  better  come  with  me,"  said  Gaunt.  "  I  am 
going  to  Morlet's  Hotel.  They'll  be  able  to  find  a  room 
for  you,  I  dare  say.  You  look — you  look  tired." 

"  I  am  wet,  and  I  am  tired,"  said  Jackson. 

They  went  up  the  highly-respectable  steps  of  Mor- 
let's, and  the  highly  respectable  Wilkins  met  them  at 
the  door ;  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  the  highly- 
respectable  Wilkins  sustained  a  severe  shock  at  the  sight 
of  Lord  Gaunt. 

"  My — my  lord !  "  he  gasped. 

Gaunt  nodded  and  smiled  at  him. 

"  All  right,  Wilkins,"  he  said,  easily.  "  I  want  a  room 
— a  couple  of  rooms — one  for  my  friend  here,  for  to-nigltt 
only.  You  are  looking  well,  Wilkins.  Can  I  have  my 
old  room  ?  " 

If  Lord  Gaunt  had  been  ten  times  the  criminal  the 
world  believed  him  to  be,  Wilkins  could  not  have  re- 
sisted that  smile  or  the  tone  which  accompanied  it.  He 
led  the  way  in  a  solemn  and  impressive  silence. 

"  You'll  give  us  some  dinner — anything,  Wilkins,"  said 
Lord  Gaunt,  as  easily  as  before :  and  Wilkins,  all  in  a 
flutter,  could  only  bow  and  respond  with  : 


196  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Certainly,  my  lord  !  " 

(-iaunt  waited  until  the  man  Jackson  had  been  con- 
ducted to  his  room,  then  went  to  his  own  and  washed. 

When  he  came  down,  Jackson  was  standing  before  the 
fire,  and  Gaunt  saw,  more  plainly  than  lie  had  seen  in  the 
street,  the  wasted  and  woebegone  countenance  of  the  man 
he  had  saved  from  a  watery  grave. 

The  dinner  was  served — an  admirable  dinner,  consider- 
ing the  shortness  of  the  notice;  but  neither  of  the  two 
men  could  do  it  justice.  Gaunt  was  thinking  of  Decima. 
and  the  charge  that  hung  over  his  head,  and  Jackson  also 
appeared  to  be  over- weighted  by  trouble. 

"A  good  dinner  wasted,"  said  Gaunt,  with  an  attempt 
at  cheerfulness.  "  There  is  a  reason  for  my  \vant  of  ap- 
petite, but  I  don't  know  of  any  for  yours,  Mr.  Jackson. 
Will  you  have  some  of  this  souffle  ?  " 

"  Xo,  thanks  !  "  said  Jackson.  "  I — I  should  like  some 
•brandy." 

Gaunt  signed  to  Wilkins,  and  he  brought  the  desired 
spirit.  Jackson  drank  half  a  tumbler  off. 

'•  What's  the  reason  you  can't  enjoy  your  dinner  ?  "  he 
-asked,  regarding  Gaunt  with  lack-lustre  eyes,  round 
•which  were  rims  as  red  as  if  they  had  been  painted. 

Gaunt  smiled  grimly. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  because  it  is  the  last  I  shall  eat  in 
liberty — freedom — for  some  time,"  he  replied. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  demanded  Jackson. 

Gaunt  lit  a  cigarette. 

"  You  know  my  name  ?  "  he  asked. 

Jackson  nodded. 

«'  And  have  read  the  papers — the  newspapers  ?  " 

Jackson  shook  his  head. 

«  Xo  ! " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Gaunt,  reluctantly.  "  If  you  had,  it  would 
have  saved  me  an  explanation.  I  am  Edward  Barnard 
Gaunt,  and  I  am  charged  with  the  murder  of — of  my  wife 
at  Prince's  Mansions." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  197 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

JACKSON-  set  down  the  glass  untasted  which  he  had 
been  raising  to  his  lips.  His  manner  was  so  indicative  of 
surprise,  amazement,  that  Gaunt  stared  at  him. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  not  seen  a  paper — 
a  London  paper  ?  "  he  asked. 

Jackson  moistened  his  lips  with  his  tongue. 

"  Xo,"  he  said ;  "  I — I  haven't  seen  a  paper.  I — I  know- 
nothing  about  it.  There  was  no  paper  on  board  the  ship 
that  took  us  off  from  Mogador." 

Gaunt  sighed. 

"  It's  soon  told,"  he  said.  "  A  woman  was  murdered  at 
one  of  the  flats  at  Prince's  Mansions —  What  is  the- 
matter  ?  "  he  broke  off,  as  Jackson  half  rose  from  his  seat. 

"  Xothing — nothing  !  "  said  Jackson,  with  the  hollow 
cough  which  Gaunt  had  noticed  several  times  during  the 
meal. 

"  She  was  murdered — stabbed  with  a  Persian  dagger. 
The  dagger  was  mine.  The  coat  thrown  over  her— a  fur- 
coat,  easy  to  identify — was  my  coat ;  and  " — he  paused — 
"  the  woman  was  my  wife  !  " 

"  Yours !  "  ejaculated  Jackson. 

He  gripped  the  table  with  both  hands  and  stared  at 
Gaunt  with  his  hollow,  bloodshot  eyes,  with  a  gaze  half 
of  amazement,  half  of  terror. 

"Yes,  mine!"  said  Gaunt,  leaning  back  in  his  chair 
and  gazing  moodily  at  the  tablecloth.  "  She  was  my 
wife.  I  married  her,  thinking  her  all  that  was  good  and 
pure,  and  innocent.  I  loved  her.  But  that's  a  different 
part  of  the  story.  The  salient  facts  are  that  she  was 
found — murdered — in  my  rooms.  That  I  had  been 
there !  " 

"  You !     You  had  been  there  !  "  ejaculated  Jackson. 

"  Yes,"  said  Gaunt:  He  had  almost  forgotten  his  au- 
ditor and  was  communing  with  himself.  "I  had  been 
there-  She  came  in  while  I  was  there,  and  there  was  a 
scene.  I  dare  say  I  threatened  her — God  knows  she 
tried  me  hardly  enough ! — and  I  was  very  likely  over- 
heard by  the  servants.  In  short,  Mr.  Jackson,  the  evi- 


198  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

deuce  is  very  black  against  me.  I  tell  you  all  this  be- 
cause yon  may  object  to  continue  an  acquaintance  with  a 
man  who  lies  under  so  heavy  a  charge,  and  whom  you 
will  probably  think  guilty.'' 

Jackson  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  with  his  head 
sunk  between  his  shoulders,  coughed  appallingly  and 
stared  at  Gaunt. 

"  If  you'd  like  to  say  '  Good-by '  and  go  to  another 
hotel/'  said  Gaunt,  "  pray  do  so.  I  shall  not  be  offended, 
or  deem  your  desire  to  cut  my  acquaintance  an  unreason- 
able one." 

i-  She  was  your  wife  ?  "  said  Jackson,  in  a  hollow  voice, 
and  apparently  ignoring  Gaunt's  suggestion.  "  Your 
wife ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Gaunt,  with  a  sigh.  "  And,  when  I  think 
of  her  lying  dead,  I  can  only  remember  that  I  once  loved 
her,  and  I  can  forgive  her  all  the  misery  she  caused  me." 

Again  he  spoke  more  to  himself  than  to  Jackson,  who, 
sunk  deeply  in  his  chair,  looked  a  ghastly  object,  and 
scarcely  capable  of  understanding  the  case,  but  presently, 
without  taking  his  bloodshot  eyes  from  Gaunt's  face,  he 
said  : 

"  If  the  evidence  against  you  is  so  strong,  why,  in  the 
devil's  name,  did  you  come  back  ?  You  might  have  got 
off  in  that  yacht,  and — there  would  have  been  no  more 
bother." 

Gaunt  raised  his  eyebrows  slightly. 

"  If  I  had  been  guilty,  I  suppose  that  is  what  I  should 
have  done,"  he  said  ;  "  but  I  am  innocent.  Of  course  I 
do  not  insist  upon  your  believing  me " 

Jackson  made  a  movement  with  his  hand. 

-  And,  being  innocent,  of  course,  I  have  come  back  to 
face  the  thing.  What  else  could  I  do  ? "  he  added 
simply. 

Jackson's  eyes  wandered  round  the  room,  then  returned, 
with  their  fixed  stare,  to  Gaunt's  face. 

"  You  take  it  coolly  !  "  he  said,  hoarsely,  and  with  an 
oath.  "  Suppose — suppose  they  find  you  guilty  ?" 

"  Then  I  shall  not  be  the  first  man  who  has  suffered 
innocently,"  said  Gaunt,  gravely. 

Jackson  got  up  from  his  chair  with  difficulty,  and  went 
and  leaned  against  the  mantel.  The  short  journey 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  199 

brought  on  his  cough  again,  and  he  bent  double,  and  put 
his  handkerchief  to  his  lips.  As  he  took  it  away  Gaunt 
saw  that  there  was  blood  upon  it. 

"I'm  afraid  you're  very  ill,  Mr.  Jackson,"  he  said. 
"  Don't  you  think  you  had  better  go  to  bed,  and  let  me 
send  for  the  doctor  V  " 

Jackson  waved  the  suggestion  away  impatiently. 

"  I'm  all  right,"  he  said,  sullenly.  "  Who — who  did 
this  murder  ?  "  he  asked,  hoarsely. 

Gaunt  shook  his  head. 

"I  have  not  the  least  idea.  I  know  nothing  of  my 
wife's  life  since  I  left  her,  or  her  recent  movements,  and 
I  suppose  the  police  are  so  assured  of  my  guilt  that  they 
didn't  deem  it  necessary  to"  look  in  any  other  direction." 

A  curious  gleam  shot  for  a  moment  into  Jackson's 
eyes  as  he  bent  over  the  fire. 

"  The  police  are  fools !  "  he  said.  "  I  suppose  any  one 
could  have  got  into  the  flat,  the  room  ?  What's  the  name 
of  the  Mansions  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  cunning  glance  at 
Gaunt. 

"  Prince's  Mansions,"  said  Gaunt.  "  I  do  not  think  so, 
The  servants  would  have  seen  any  one  enter." 

Jackson  smiled ;  his  back  was  to  Gaunt. 

"If  I'd  been  the  detective  in  charge  of  the  case,  I 
should  have  raked  up  her  past  life  ;  I  should  have  found 
out  what  friends  she  had :  who  she'd  quarreled  witli 
lately.  They're  fools  !  " 

He  turned  round  and  looked  at  Gaunt ;  his  face  was 
flushed  with  a  kind  of  childish  satisfaction,  and  ho  began 
to  laugh  in  a  meaningless  fashion,  but  the  laugh  was  cut 
short  by  the  awful  hacking  cough  and  again  the  hand- 
kerchief was  stained  with  blood. 

"  Look  here,  Jackson,"  said  Gaunt,  "  I  must  insist  upon 
your  going  to  bed,  and  having  the  doctor.  You  see,  I 
somehow  feel  responsible  for  you,  having  brought  you 
here." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Jackson.  "  You  saved  my  life  ; 
you  gave  up  your  place  in  the  boat " 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  of  that,"  said  Gaunt  quickly. 

"  Xo,  but  I  was  !  "  broke  in  Jackson,  in  a  hollow  voice. 
"  I  am  bad,  I  know ;  but  you  don't  suppose  you're  the 
only  man  who  isn't  afraid  of  death,  do  you  ?  Perhaps 


200  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

I've  got  as  much  pluck  as  you  have,"  he  added,  with  a 
kind  of  defiance. 

'•  My  good  fellow,  I  don't  doubt  your  courage,"  said 
Gaunt.  "And,  as  to  being  afraid  of  death,  life  isn't 
such  a  desirable  thing  for  most  of  us  that  we  should  cling 
to  it  very  desperately.  But  j^ou're  a  young  man,  Jackson, 
and  have  got  all  the  world  before  you,  and  you  ought  to 
take  better  care  of  yourself." 

Jackson  stared  at  him  gloomily. 

"  You're  young  yourself,"  he  said,  "  and  rich.  I  sup- 
pose— "  Gaunt  shrugged  his  shoulders — "  and  a  noble- 
man. What's  the  matter  with  life  that  you  should  get 
so  d — d  anxious  to  lose  it?  " 

Gaunt  smiled  grimly. 

"  Life  is  just  what  we  make  of  it,  Jackson,"  he  said. 
•*'  I've  made  a  mess  of  mine  and,  candidly,  I  am  exceed- 
ingly sorry  that  the  Sea  Wolf  happened  to  lose  her  way 
in  the  fog  that  night.  But  I  won't  bore  you  any  longer 
with  the  story  of  my  griefs  and  sorrows,"  he  added,  with 
a  smile.  He  rose  as  he  spoke,  poured  out  a  glass  of  the 
Morlet  port — it  was  excellent  wine — and  carried  it  to 
Jackson.  "  Drink  that,''  he  said.  «  I  don't  think  it  will 
hurt  you ;  then  go  to  bed.  I'll  send  for  my  doctor  to- 
morrow ;  he's  a  clever  fellow,  and  will  put  you  right,  I 
hope." 

Jackson  took  the  glass  and  drank  the  wine,  looking 
steadily  at  Gaunt  as  he  did  so. 

"  Don't  trouble  to  send  for  your  doctor,"  he  said.  "  He 
couldn't  do  any  good.  I'm  past  tinkering :  I  know  that. 
I've  led  the  devil's  own  life  for  some  time  past,  and  that 
night  in  the  fog  off  Mogador  put  the  finishing  touch." 

He  set  the  empty  glass  down  on  the  mantel-shelf  and 
moved  to  the  door.  He  was  a  young  man,  as  Gaunt  had 
said,  but  he  looked  a  very  old  one,  and  very  bad  and 
feeble  at  that,  as  he  shuffled  along,  with  his  red  head 
bowed  on  his  breast  and  his  hands  hanging  limply  at  his 
.side. 

At  the  door  he  paused,  and  looked  round  the  room  and 
then  at  Gaunt. 

"  Good  -night,"  he  said.  "I  haven't  forgotten  what' 
you've  done  for  me.  You're  a  brave  man,  Lord  Gaunt, 
and  I — d n  it,  I  admire  you." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  201 

"  Thanks,"  said  Gaunt,  with  a  smile.  "  Good-night,  or 
rather  good-by.  I  expect  I  shall  be  gone  before  you  come 
down  to-morrow.  Don't  hurry  up,  but  take  a  long  rest. 
Oh,  by  the  way !  Do  you  happen  to  want  any  money  ? 
If  so " 

He  took  out  his  purse.  He  still  felt  as  if,  having  saved 
the  man's  life,  he  was  in  a  sense  responsible  for  his  welfare. 

Jackson's  face  grew  red,  then  livid,  and  he  looked  at 
Gaunt  with  a  curious  expression  in  his  bloodshot  eyes. 

"I've  got  plenty  of  money,"  he  said,  brusquely. 
*'  Good-night !  "  and  he  left  the  room. 

Gaunt  was  not  sorry  to  lose  him  for  though  he  had 
saved  the  man's  life  and  was  anxious  to  befriend  him,  he 
did  not  like  him,  but  perhaps  for  that  very  reason  he 
felt  that  he  must  look  after  him,  and  do  the  best  for  him. 
It  was  like  Gaunt  to  think  of  another  man,  even  in  the 
midst  of  his  own  terrible  trouble. 

He  drew  his  chair  to  the  fire,  and  lit  a  pipe,  and — is  it 
necessary  to  say  ? — began  to  think  of  Decima. 

He  spent  a  couple  of  hours  in  the  delightful  occupation 
of  thinking  how  exquisite  a  thing  life  would  have  been 
if  he  had  met  his  girl-love  years  ago ;  if  he  had  not  mar- 
ried ;  if—  Life  is  made  up  of  "  ifs."  He  sighed,  rose 
and  stretched  himself  and  went  out  into  the  hall. 

Wilkins  was  standing  there  as  if  waiting  for  him. 

"  Well,  Wilkins,"  he  said  cheerfully.  "  I  suppose  you 
know  whom  you  have  been  harboring  ?  " 

Wilkins  colored,  then  became  pale. 

"  I'll  never  believe  you  did  it,  my  lord  ! "  he  said,  with 
agitation. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Gaunt.  "  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
didn't.  Have  me  called  early  to-morrow,  Wilkins,  will 
you?  I  should  like  to  have  my  breakfast  before  the 
police  come." 

"  Certainly,  my  lord,"  said  Wilkins,  with  a  gasp.  "  I 
'ope  your  lordship  don't  blame  me  ?  I  had  to  give  evi- 
dence." 

Gaunt  smiled  rather  wearily. 

"  I  don't  blame  any  one  but  myself,"  he  said.  "  Good- 
night." 

He  was  very  tired,  and  he  slept  soundly.  He  dreamed 
of  Decima  that  night ;  as  he  had  dreamed — how  often ! 


202  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

He  thought  lie  saw  her  standing  at  a  distance  from  him 
and  smiling  at  him.  But  she  was  a  long  way  off,  and 
though  he  stretched  out  his  hands  toward  her,  he  could 
not  reach  her. 

He  came  down  to  breakfast  the  next  morning  as  calm 
and  self-possessed  as  usual.  Wilkins  \vas  waiting  as  if 
nothing  were  the  matter. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Jackson  ?  "  asked  Gaunt. 

Wilkins  coughed. 

"  He  left  the  hotel  early  this  morning,  my  lord,"  he  said. 

Gaunt  shook  his  head. 

"  I'm  afraid  he  was  not  fit  to  go  out," 

"  Xo,  my  lord,"  said  Wilkins.  "  I  heard  the  gentleman 
coughing  all  night ;  it  was  something  dreadful." 

"  Take  care  of  him,  if  he  comes  1  »ack,"  said  Gaunt.  "  He 
ought  to  be  in  bed,  and  under  a  doctor's  care." 

Gaunt  ate  his  breakfast,  and  he  was  lighting  a  cigarette 
when  Wilkins  announced  two  gentlemen.  They  were  Mr. 
Pelford  and  Mr.  Burns,  the  detective  in  charge  of  the  c. 

Mr.  Pelford  was  very  pale  and  evidently  struggling 
with  his  agitation. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Burns,  Lord  Gaunt,"  he  said,  « the  detec- 
tive." 

Gaunt  nodded,  and  Mr.  Burns  looked  at  him  keenly. 

"  Sorry  to  disturb  you,  my  lord,"  he  said. 

"  Xot  at  all,"  said  Gaunt.  "  I'm  afraid  I've  given  you  a 
great  deal  of  trouble,  Mr.  Burns :  quite  unwittingly. 
Will  you  take  a  cup  of  coffee  ?  Xo  !  A  cigarett 

He  handed  his  cigarette  case. 

Mr.  Burns  was  rather  staggered.  He  had  had  a  large 
experience  with  criminals,  small  and  great,  but  he  had 
never  met  with  one  quite  so  cool  as  this. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  have  an  unpleasant  duty  to  perform,  my 
lord,"  he  said. 

"  Most  duties  are  unpleasant,  Mr.  Burns,"  said  Gaunt. 
"  You  have  come  to  arrest  me  I  suppose." 

"I'm  afraid  so,  my  lord,"  said  the  detective.  "I  need 
not  warn  your  lordship  that  I  shall  be  obliged  to  use 
anything  you  may  say  against  you." 

"  Quite  so  !  "  said  Gaunt.  '•  Wilkins,  may  I  trouble 
you  to  get  my  hat  and  coat  ?  " 

"  I  wish  to  remark,"  said  Mr.  Pelford,  with  an  agita- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  203 

tion  in  strong  contrast  to  Gaunt's  coolness,  "  that  Lord 
Gaunt  has  come  back  to  England  of  his  own  free  will,  and 
with  some  difficulty,  to  meet  this  charge." 

"  I  quite  understand  that,"  said  Mr.  Burns.  "  I've  got 
a  brougham  outside.  We  shall  drive  straight  to  Hollo- 
way." 

It  was  a  long  drive  to  Hdlloway,  but  they  reached  it  at 
last,  and  the  governor  of  the  prison  received  his  famous 
charge  courteously.  As  Gaunt  was  only  a  "  suspect,"  and 
had  not  yet  even  been  examined,  though  committed  on 
the  coroner's  warrant,  the  governor  was  able  to  allot  him 
fairly  comfortable  quarters,  and  Gaunt  found  himself  in  a 
fairly  large  and  decently  furnished  room. 

"  This  is  quite  luxurious,"  he  said. 

The.  governor  smiled  apologetically,  and  Mr  Pelford 
looked  around  with  a  sigh.  Presently  he  was  alone  with 
Gaunt. 

"  Is  there  anything  that  you  can  tell  me — anything  that 
will  help  us,  Lord  Gaunt  ?  "  he  said. 

Gaunt  seated  himself  on  the  bed  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"  I'm  afraid  not,  Mr.  Pelford,"  he  said.  "  If  I  were  to 
go  over  it  all,  I  should  only  repeat  the  evidence  against 
me.  I  cannot  deny  that  I  was  at  Prince's  Mansions  the 
night  of  the — the  murder ;  that  the  poor  woman,  my  wife, 
came  in  while  I  was  there  ;  that  I  had  a  scene  with  her 
—a  scene  which  is  engraved  on  my  memory,  and  I  fear 
will  never  leave  it— and  that  I  left  her  storming  against 
me.  It  was  my  coat  that  was  found  covering  her  ;  it  was 
my  dagger  with  which  she  was  stabbed.  Against  these 
facts  my  bare  assertion  that  I  did  not  kill  her  will  weigh 
but  very  little,  I  am  afraid." 

Mr.  Pelford  went  to  the  window,  heavily  barred,  and 
stared  out  into  the  prison  courtyard. 

The  case  looked  very  black. 

He  remained  with  Gaunt  for  half  an  hour,  talking  over 
the  thing,  until  Gaunt  was  weary  and  sick  at  heart ;  then." 
he  went  and  Gaunt  was  left  alone. 

He  was  almost  glail  of  the  quietude.  He  was  free  to 
think  of  Decima. 

Certain  privileges,  which  to  a  free  man  would  seem  of 
very  little  worth,  but  which  to  a  prisoner  are  valued  ex- 


204  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

ceedingly,  were  permitted  him.  His  meals  were  sent  in 
by  the  nearest  hotel ;  there  was  a  goodly  supply  of  news- 
papers and  magazines.  But  Gaunt  could  not  read  and  he 
could  not  do  justice  to  the  dishes  which  had  been  so  con- 
siderately supplied. 

The  short  winter  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  when 
there  came  a  knock  at  the  door  and  the  governor  entered. 

"  There  are  some  visitors  for  you,  Lord  Gaunt,''  he  said. 

Gaunt  rose  from  the  bed  on  which  he  was  lying. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  he  said, 

He  thought  it  might  be  Mr.  Pelford  or  Mr.  Lang  ;  but 
the  governor  ushered  in  Mr.  Bright  and  Bobby. 

For  the  first  time  Gaunt's  self-possession  forsook  him, 
and  he  could  not  speak  as  Bobby  rushed  forward  and  took 
his  hand ;  but  he  recovered  his  usual  sang-froid  in  a 
moment  or  two. 

"  This  is  good  of  you,  Bobby  ! "  he  said. 

"  We  got  a  wire  this  morning,"  gasped  Bobby  ;  "  and 
Bright  and  I  came  up  !  " 
'  Gaunt  shook  hands  with  Bright. 

"  I'm  fated  to  be  a  trouble  to  you,  Bright,"  he  said. 

Bright  could  not  find  his  voice  for  a  moment,  then  he 
panted : 

"  Thank  God,  you  are  alive !  Oh,  what  is  to  be  done, 
my  lord  ?  " 

Gaunt  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Not  very  mu^h,  I'm  afraid,  Bright,"  he  said.  Then 
he  turned  to  Bobby  quickly  : 

"  Is  your  sister,  Miss  Deane,  quite  well  ?  " 

"  Yes— yes  !  "  replied  Bobby.  "  She's  all  right,  She'§ 
here — with  Lady  Pauline  ! ?' 

Gaunt  winced,  and  the  color  left  his  face. 

"  Here !     Xot  here — in  the  prison  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bobby.  "  She  would  come ;  nothing  could 
stop  her." 

"  I  am  sorry  !  "  said  Gaunt,  gravely.  "  "Will  you  not 
take  her  back,  Bobby  ?  " 

Bobby  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  It  wouldn't  be  any  use  asking  hei\ 
You  don't  know  Decima  !  " 

«Do  I  not?"  thought  Gaunt. 

"  The  moment  we  got  the  telegram,"  said  Bobby,  "  she 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  205 

insisted  upon  coming  up.  She  said  she'd  been  there  at 
the  Mansions,  that  night,  and  she  might  help  you." 

"  I  know,"  said  Gaunt,  quietly.  "  That  your  sister  was 
there  is  my  greatest  trouble.  That  she  should  be  mixed 
up  with  this  affair,  that  her  name  should  be  mentioned  in 
connection  with  it,  causes  me  greater  grief  than  anything 
else.  Will  you  tell  her  that  I  am  deeply  grateful  to  her 
for  coming,  but  that  I — I— 

"  Tell  her  yourself,"  said  Bobby.  "  She's  outside  in  the 
corridor  waiting." 

Gaunt  sank  on  the  bed  and  remained  silent  for  a  minute 
or  two.  Heaven  alone  knew  how  he  longed  to  see  her  ;  but 
Heaven  alone  knew  how  keenly  he  desired  that  she  should 
not  be  in  any  way  associated  with  his  trouble. 

"  I  play  this  hand  alone,"  he  said  to  Bobby  with  a  sad 
smile.  "  Tell  your  sister  that  I  am  sorry  she  came ;  that 
I  am  grateful  to  her  ;  but  that  I  shall  be  glad  if  she  will 
go  back  home  and  forget  that  such  a  person  as  I  ever 
existed." 

"I'll  tell  her,"  said  Bobby,  "but " 

They  talked,  Bright  and  Bobby,  one  against  the  other. 
Of  course  they  assured  Gaunt  of  their  belief  in  his  inno- 
cence, and  their  assurance  that  his  innocence  would  be 
proved.  They  were  both  very  excited  and  very  agitated  ; 
but  Gaunt  was  quite  cool  and  self-possessed.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  was  thinking  of  Decima ;  that  she  was  there, 
near  him,  in  the  corridor  !,  Bobby  and  Bright  would  have 
remained  for  any  length  of  time,  but  at  last  Gaunt  dis- 
missed them. 

Bright  and  Bobby,  as  agitated  as  when  they  had  en- 
tered, left  the  cell,  and  Gaunt  paced  up  and  down. 

Presently  he  heard  a  knock;  the  warder  opened  the  door. 

"  A  lady  to  see  you,  my  lord,"  he  said.  He  stood  aside 
and  Decima  entered. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

DECIMA  came  in  and  they  stood  looking  at  each  other 
in  silence.  Gaunt  could  not  have  spoken  or  moved  if  his 
life  had  depended  upon  his  doing  so.  And  as  he  looked 
at  her  he  saw,  with  a  pang  of  remorse,  the  change  that 
had  taken  place  in  her. 


206  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

The  face,  the  form,  were  girlish  still ;  but  on  the  face 
was  an  expression  which  only  comes  to  those  who  have 
passed  the  brook  which  divides  girlhood  from  woman- 
hood ;  and  in  the  lovely  eyes  was  a  look  which  told  him 
all  too  plainly  how  much  she  had  suffered. 

But  to  the  man  whose  heart  ached  with  love  for  her, 
how  beautiful  she  was !  How  her  presence  seemed  to 
bring  a  ray  of  sunlight,  a  glow  of  warmth  into  the  cell! 
And  yet  he  would  have  done  much  to  prevent  her  coming. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  she  suffered  desecration  by  breath- 
ing the  prison  air,  as  if  her  purity  were  polluted  by  her 
surroundings. 

He  would  have  liked  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  carry 
her  outside,  far  away  from  the  hateful,  degrading  place. 

She  looked  at  him  steadily,  with  a  grave  sadness  Avhich 
he  had  never  seen  before  in  her  eyes,  and  it  smote  him 
with  an  added  remorse.  He  had  found  her  an  innocent, 
light-hearted  girl ;  it  was  he  and  his  love  that  had  robbed 
her  youth  of  its  brightness  and  its  faith,  and  its  innocence. 

lie  met  her  gaze  for  an  instant,  then  his  eyes  fell.  She 
sighed.  She  had  not  offered  him  her  hand— he  had 
noticed  that — and  she  stood  apart  from  him  as  she  spoke. 

"I  came  at  once — directly  I  heard,"  she  said. 

Her  voice  thrilled  through  him,  and  yet  how  low  and 
grave  it  was ;  how  different  to  that  he  remembered! 
Was  it  Decima  who  was  speaking,  or  an  angel  who  had 
Avon  her  way  to  Heaven  through  the  ordeal  of  sorrow  and 
suffering '? 

'• 1  am  sorry  !  •'  he  said,  hoarsely.  "  You — you  should 
not  have  come !  This — this  is  no  fit  place  for  you  !  " 

Commonplace  words  enough,  but  she  knew  the  feeling, 
the  emotion,  which  they  masked. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  she  said,  with  a  faint  smile.  "  They  said 
at  first  I  must  not  come ;  but  when  I  explained— 
She  stopped.  "  I  knew  you  were  not  dead  !  "  Her  voice 
broke.  "  I — I  felt  that  you  were  not.  But — but  I  was 
glad  when  I  heard  ! "  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  but  .->he 
checked  them.  "  Aunt  Pauline  came  with  me.  '  She  is  in 
the  corridor." 

"I  will  ask  her  to  come  in,"  he  said,  scarcely  knowing 
what  he  said. 

"  No ;  do  not.  I  told  her  that  I  wished  to  see  you  alone.'* 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  207 

He  bowed  his  head. 

"  Why  r1  I  am  sorry  you  have  come  !  It — it  hurts  me 
to  see  you  here — in  this  place." 

"  I  know,"  she  said,  simply,  as  if  she  understood  him 
fully. 

"  All  through  this — this  awful  business  I  have  had  one 
paramount  desire — that  you,  that  your  name,  should  not 
be  connected  with  it  !  I  have  brought  you  unhappiness 
enough,  surely  !  You  might  have  been  spared  this  crown- 
ing misery !  " 

"  I  knew  that  you  would  think  as  you  do,  and  that  is 
why  I  came,"  she  said  in  the  same  sweet,  low  voice. 

He  looked  at  her  in  helpless  pain. 

"  I  know  that  you  would  rather  suffer  anything,  run  any 
risk  than  that  I  should  appear." 

"  Yes !  "  he  said.  "  God  knows  I  would  !  It  seems  to 
me  that  nothing  else  matters  !  " 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  that !  "  she  broke  in,  with  a  catch  in 
her  voice.  "Do  not  say  that,  when — when  so  much  is  at 
stake — your  liberty,  your  safety " 

"  You  must  not  think  of  them  !  "  he  responded,  quickly. 
"  I  have  brought  it  all  on  myself." 

"  Ah,  no,  no  !  "  she  cried.  «  Xot  that !  You  did  not  do 
it — you  are  innocent !  " 

"  Of  the  crime  with  which  I  am  charged — yes  !  "  he  said ; 
"  but  "- — bitterly — "  I  am  guilty  of  having  wrecked  your 
life — of  having  caused  you  unhappiness." 

She  shook  her  head  slightly,  with  a  faint  smile  that  was 
infinitely  sad. 

"  Xo  ;  it— it  was  my  fault.  If  you  had  never  seen  me " 

"  Don't ! "  he  broke  in,  hoarsely.  "  You  know  that  no 
shadow  of  blame  can  rest  on  you.  None — none  whatever. 
No  punishment  I  might  suffer  for  anything  I  have  done, 
or  not  done,  could  atone  for  the  wrong  I  have  done  you. 
It  is  that  thought  that  makes  me  say  and  feel  that  noth- 
ing that  can  happen  to  me  can  matter  in  the  very  least. 
I  have  only  one  desire,  and  that  is  that  you  should  come 
to  forget  me,  and  all  that  concerns  me  ;  I  dare  not  hope 
that  you  will  eves  forgive " 

Her  head  dropped,  then  she  looked  at  him. 

"  I  have  forgiven !  "  she  said,  simply.  "  It — it  was  not 
hard.  If — if  you  had  not  cared  for  me " 


208  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

He  uttered  a  broken  exclamation  ;  but  she  went  on 
calmly,  sadly,  her  eyes  meeting  his  bravely,  with  a  kind 
of  sad  resignation  "  You — you  would  not  have  asked  me 
— have  wished  me  to  go  with  you." 

"  That — that  does  not  palliate — "  he  said,  hoarsely. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  she  said,  and  all  the  woman  spoke  in  her 
tone.  "  Yes,  I  remember  that,  when — when  I  remember 
that  mgln." 

A  faint  color  passed  over  her  pale  face  quickly. 

He  hung  his  head. 

"  That  is  like  you,"  he  said,  humbly,  gratefully.  "  It 
was  like  you  to  come  here  to  tell  me  this.  And — God 
knows  how  great  a  comfort  to  me  it  is  !  It  will  lighten 
the  burden  of  my  remorse.  And — and  you  will  go  now  ; 
you  will  not  appear — take  any  part  in  this  business  ?  " 

"  I  must,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  but  with  a  touch  of 
firmness  which  was  a  full  tribute  to  Lady  Pauline's 
teaching. 

"  I  know  that  you  would  rather  run  any  risk  to  spare 
me,  and  it  is  because  of  that  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that 
you  must  not  let  any  thought  of  my  comfort  stand  in  the 
way  of  helping  you.  I  was  there  that  night ;  I  may  be 
able  to  tell  them  something  that  may  help  to  prove  your 
innocence — 

He  raised  his  head  with  a  movement  indicative  of  repu- 
diation. 

"  You  must  not !  "  he  said.  "  I — I  could  not  bear  to  see 
you  in  court  before  the  public,  with  every  eye  upon  you. 
I  would  rather  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Tell  me  how  I  can  help  you,"  she  said,  breaking  in 
upon  his  speech  gently  but  firmly.  "  If  I  tell  them  all — all 
I  know ;  all  that  happened,  it  may  be  of  use — 

He  groaned  and  turned  aside,  that  she  might  not  see  the 
agony  on  his  face. 

"  It  would  not  help  me  !  "  he  said,  almost  brusquely ; 
for  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  speak.     "  It  would  not  help 
me  at  all.     And  if  it  would,  I  could  not  let  you  do   it 
There — there  is  enough  evidence  without  yours — 

He  stopped,  for  she  had  shuddered,  and  her  face  had 
grown  even  paler. 

"  Do  you  mean  ?    Ah,  no,  no !    They  could  not  1    God 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  209 

would  not  let  them  find  you  guilty  !  He  could  not,  could 
not !  " 

She  began  to  tremble.  With  an  effort,  she  mastered 
her  emotion,  and  was  calm  again. 

"  Something  will  be  discovered,  she  said,  struggling 
to  steady  her  voice.  "  It  must  be  !  The  person  who— 
who  is  guilty  will  be  found." 

"  Yes  ;  yos  !  "  he  said,  with  an  assumption  of  confidence. 
"  Xo  doubt  he  will  be.  The— the  police  are  clever,  and " 

"  Are  you  only  saying  it  to  give  me  courage  ?  "  she  asked, 
scanning  his  face  anxiously. 

lie  forced  a  smile. 

"  We  will  hope  for  the  best,"  he  said.  "  My  lawyers 
will  do  their  utmost  on  my  behalf.  You  have  been — 
yen-  ill? " 

He  broke  off  abruptly,  and  with  an  infinite  remorse  and 
grief  in  his  voice. 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  been  ill,"  she  said.  "  But  I  am  quite  well 
and  strong  now.  If — if  I  could  only  be  sure  you  were  safe  ! " 

"  Do  not  think  of  me  !  "  he  said,  quickly.  "  But  if  you 
must,  remember  that  you  cannot  help  me  ;  that  if  you  were 
dragged  into  the  business  it  would  only  increase  my  un- 
happiness." 

"  You  think  of  me — always  of  me  !  Not  of  yourself  !  " 
she  said  almost  to  herself.  "  Never  of  yourself." 

"Do  I  not?"  he  said,  bitterly.  "When  have  I  not 
thought  of  myself  and  my  selfish  desires  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  wistful  tenderness. 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  ?  When  you  strove  to  make  the  poor 
people  at  Leafmore  happier  and  more  contented ;  when 
you — when  you  went  away  lest — lest  you  should  say  to 
me  what  you  said  that  night.  When  you  gave  up  your 
place  in  the  boat  to  another  man.  Ah,  yes  !  I  have  heard 
it  all ;  and — and — my  heart  has  swelled  with  pride  !  And 
that  is  not  all.  You  were  not  thinking  of  yourself  when 
you  sent  the  money  to  save  father  and  Bobby  and  me !  " 

Gaunt  reddened,  and  bit  his  lip. 

"  You  know  ?     Who  told  you  ?  " 

"  No  one  !  "  she  said.  "  But  do  you  think  I  could  not 
guess  ?  " 

He  looked  aside  for  a  moment.  Then  he  said,  with  sad 
bitterness : 


1>10  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

'•  And  now,  I  suppose,  you  will  refuse  it — refuse  any- 
thing,  ever  so  small  a  thing — from  my  hands?" 

'•  Xo,""she  said,  simply.  "  I  will  not.  I  know  that — - 
that  it  would  pain  you.  I  wanted  to  refuse,  until — until 
I  thought  it  all  over  ;  then  I  saw  that  it  would  be  wrong 
to  do  so.  It  would  have  been,  as  if — as  if  I  had  refused 
to — to  forgive  you." 

lie  stretched  out  his  hands. 

-  <;<>d  bless  you,  Decimal  "  he  said,  in  a  broken  voice. 
"You  have  found  the  way  to  ease  my  heart  of  its  load!  " 

"I  know!"  she  said,  as  simply  as  before.  "  Some  day 
we  shall  pay  it  back.  Aunt  Pauline—  But  I  will  not  let 
you  think  me  ungrateful  and  churlish." 

He  could  not  speak  for  a  moment :  the  exquisite  sweet- 
ness of  her  reasoning  overcame  him  as  nothing  else  could 
have  done. 

"  There  is  no  one  like  you !  "  he  said,  at  last,  with  a 
kind  of  reverential  despair.  "  No  one  !  All,  how  could  I 
help  loving  you?  Ah,  forgive  me  !  "  for  she  had  winced 
and  shrank  back — slightly  enough  but  he  had  perceived  it. 
"Forgive  me  !  " 

There  was  a  world  of  grief  and  remorse  in  his  voi 
his  face.  For  he  felt  at  that  moment  that,  though  the 
old  barrier  had  been  removed,  his  conduct  had  raised  a 
new  one.  He  loved  her  still,  and  she  might  love  him  still, 
hut  the  gulf  yawned  between  them,  and  he  himself  had 
dug  it. 

Lady  Pauline  came  to  the  door.  She  inclined  her  head 
to  Gaunt,  but  addressed  Decima  : 

"Are  you  ready,  Decima  V     The  time  has  expired." 

"Yes,  aunt,"  said  Decima,  and  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  have  to  thank  Miss  Deane  for  coming  here, 
Pauline,"  (Jaunt  said  as  steadily  as  he  could.     "  I  have  as- 
sured her  that  she  cannot  help  me  by — by  appearing  in 
court ;  that  I  most  earnestly  entreat  her  not  to  do  so ! ' 

Lady  Pauline  inclined  her  head  again. 

"  My  niece  has  only  clone  her  duty  in  coming  to  you, 
Lord  Gaunt,"  she  said  in  even  tones,  "  a  duty  which  I 
could  not  refuse  to  recognize." 

lie  bowed  with  his  old  courteousness. 

"  Knowing  all — "he  paused. 

«  Yes,"  she  said.     "  My  niece  has  told  me  everything. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  211 

"  You  will  not  need  any  assurance  of  my  remorse  ;  will 
not  doubt  my  assertion  that  there  is  nothing  I  would  not 
do  or  suffer  to  spare  her  a  moment's  unhappiness — dis- 
comfort ?  "  Lady  Pauline  regarded  him  solemnly. 

"  I  believe  in  the  sincerity  of  your  desire  to  spare  her, 
Lord  Gaunt,"  she  said;  "but  it  is  part  of  our  punishment 
that  we  are  helpless  to  avert  the  consequences  of  our  mis- 
deeds from  falling  upon  those  who  are  innocent,  and  whom 
we  most  desire  to  shield." 

"  That  is  so,"  said  Gaunt  simply,  and  the  commonplace 
assent  was  more  eloquent  of  his  pain  and  misery  than  a 
more  ornate  response  would  have  been. 

"  Aunt !  "  murmured  Decima,  appealingly. 

"  We  will  go,"  said  Lady  Pauline.  "  It  is  only  fair 
and  just  that  I  should  assure  you  of  my  conviction  of 
your  innocence  of  the  awful  crime  laid  to  your  charge, 
Lord  Gaunt,"  she  added. 

Gaunt  inclined  his  head.  "  Thank  you,  Lady  Pauline. 
Yes,  I  am  innocent  of  that! "  he  said,  quietly. 

Lady  Pauline  went  outside  again,  and  Decima,  who  had 
been  standing  with  an  expression  of  pain  in  her  lowered 
eyes,  raised  them  to  Gaunt's  face. 

"  Good-by  !  "  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

She  did  not  hold  out  her  hand,  and  that  she  did  not 
do  so  hurt  him.  He  did  not  know  that  she  dared  not  run 
the  risk  of  touching  him  ! 

"  Good-by  !  God  bless  and  keep  you  !  "  he  said,  almost 
in  a  whisper. 

Her  eyes  rested  upon  his  with  an  infinite  sadness  and 
tenderness,  then  she  drew  them  away  slowly,  and  with  a 
sigh  left  the  cell. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

WHEX-  Decima  had  left  the  cell,  taking  all  the  light  and 
warmth  with  her,  as  it  seemed  to  Gaunt,  he  sat  on  the 
bed  with  his  face  in  his  hands,  thinking  of  every  word  she 
had  said,  recalling  the  sweet  face,  with  its  new  expression 
of  sadness  and  resignation. 

He  asked  himself  why  Fate  had  sent  him  across  her 
path,  why  Heaven  permitted  one  of  its  angels  to  suffer  as 
she  had  suffered,  simply  through  loving  him. 


212  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

Alas  !  This  kind  of  question  is  not  only  futile,  but  re- 
coils upon  the  questioner.  Why  the  innocent  should 
suffer  with  the  guilty  ;  why  the  woman  should  suffer 
through  her  love  for  the  man,  are  interrogations  which 
remain  unanswered,  even  by  theologians,  who  are  sup- 
posed to  know  everything, 

Gaunt  was  so  engrossed  in  thinking  of  Deciina  that  he 
could  scarcely  turn  his  attention  to  his  own  affairs, 
though  in  all  truth  they  were  grave  and  serious  enough. 

Mr.  Pelford  brought  Sir  James,  the  great  counsel,  the 
next  morning,  and  they  went  over  the  whole  story  and 
examined  the  evidence  with  a  minuteness  which  wearied 
Gaunt.  Perhaps  he  permitted  this  weariness  to  be  seen, 
for  Sir  James  got  rather  sharp. 

"  Look  here,  Lord  Gaunt,"  he  said,  impressively,  and 
no  man  could  be  more  impressive  than  Sir  James,  when  he 
liked.  "  I'm  afraid  you  don't  realize  your  position." 

"  That's  what  I  say  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pelford. 

"The  evidence  is  very  strong.  The  trial  will  take 
place  in  about  three  weeks.  Unless  we  can  discover  the 
criminal,  the  perpetrator  of  this  murder.  I — well,  I 
should  not  like  to  answer  for  the  result.  Of  course  I 
could  have  the  trial  put  off." 

"  Pray  do  not !  "  said  Gaunt.  "  Three  weeks  of  sus- 
pense will  be  quite  long  enough.  If  you  do  not  discover 
him  in  that  time,  he  will  remain  undiscovered.  I  can 
give  you  no  assistance  beyond  that  which  may  be  supplied 
by  my  statement  of  what  occurred  on  the  night  I  met  my 
Avife.  Please  don't  think  me  indifferent  or  ungrateful 
for  the  effort  you  are  making  on  my  behalf.  I  have  no 
desire  to  figure  as  the  first  Gaunt  who  had  been  hanged, 
I  assure  you ;  but  I  feel  quite  helpless,  and  when  I  am  in 
that  condition •" 

He  made  a  little  weary  gesture  with  his  hand. 

Sir  James  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  We  will  do  all  we  can.  We  must  find  out  all  that  is 
possible  to  be  discovered  concerning  the  unhappy  lady's 
movements  since  she  parted  from  you.  You  know  no  de- 
tails of  her  life  of  late,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Absolutely  nothing,"  said  Gaunt,  "  excepting  that  she 
was  living  with  her  brother." 

"  We  will  send  over  to  Monte  Carlo,"  said  Mr.  Pelford. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  213 

"  We  will  get  all  the  information  we  can  out  of  him,  but 
we  will  not  bring  him  over  till  the  last  moment ;  for  the 
man  makes  a  nuisance  of  himself."  Then  they  went,  and 
Sir  James  used  strong  language,  outside  the  prison. 

A  little  later  Gaunt  had  a  visit  from  Bobby  ;  and  Gaunt 
was  glad  to  see  him  at  any  rate. 

"  Your  sister  has  gone  home  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Bobby. 

"It  was  good  of  her  to  come,"  said  Gaunt ;  "but  you 
must  not  let  her  come  again.  This  in  not  a  fit  place  for 
her.  You  will  take  care  of  her,  Bobby  ?  "  he  added  in  a 
low  voice,  and  turning  his  head  away. 

"  Aunt  Pauline  will  do  that,"  said  Bobby.  "  I  can't 
leave  London  till  after— after  the  trial.  I  want  to  see 
you  every  day.  I'm  wretched  when  I'm  not  here  !  " 

Gaunt  put  his  hand  upon  the  boy's  shoulder.  "You 
are  indeed  that  '  friend  in  need,"  Bobby,"  he  said. 

Bobby's  eyes  grew  moist. 

"  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 

Gaunt  shook -his  head.  Then  he  said,  as  if  he  were  glad 
to  find  something : 

"  Yes  !  The  night  I  arrived  in  London,  I  met  a  man,  a, 
fellow-passenger  on  the  unlucky  Pevensey  Castle.  The 
poor  fellow  was  in  a  wretched  plight,  and  I  took  him  to 
the  hotel  with  me.  He  seemed  fearfully  ill — seriously 
ill,  I  should  say,  but  he  left  the  hotel  the  next  morning 
before  breakfast.  I  don't  like  the  man,  but  I  feel  a. 
strange  interest  in  him,  and  I  wish  you'd  go  down  to  the 
hotel  and  see  whether  he  has  turned  up  again." 

Only  too  glad  of  something  to  do,  Bobby  went  off  to 
Morlet's.  He  came  back  with  the  information  that  noth- 
ing more  had  been  seen  of  Mr.  Jackson.  lie  had  paid  his 
bill  before  leaving,  and  had  not  returned  to  the  hotel. 

"  I'm  almost  glad  to  get  rid  of  him,"  said  Gaunt ;  "  but 
I  hope  no  harm  has  come  to  him.  He  was  dreadfully  ill.'* 

"  It  is  the  man  you  rescued  isn't  it?  "  asked  Bobby. 

"  You  can  scarcely  call  it  that,"  said  Gaunt ;  "  he  took 
his  chance  in  the  boat  with  the  rest." 

"  You  gave  up  your  place  to  him,"  faltered  Bobby. 

"  Willingly  enough  !  "  remarked  Gaunt,  indifferently. 

"  I'm  going  off  now,  to  help  Pelford,"  said  Bobby,  as 


214  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

he  took  his  leave.  "  We're  going  to  leave  no  stone  un- 
turned. We  must  find  the  guilty  man !  " 

"  And  you  will,  I  am  sure,  if  he  is  to  be  found  !  "  said 
Gaunt,  gratefully. 

As  the  day  of  the  trial  approached  Decima  spent  more 
of  her  time  in  her  own  room,  and  Lady  Pauline  began  to 
dread  that  the  girl  would  break  down.  But  the  de- 
termination to  appear  at  the  trial  and  help  Lord  Gaunt, 
if  it  were  possible  for  her  to  help  him,  supported  Decima. 

The  day  of  the  trial  arrived.  The  court  was  crowded, 
not  only  with  the  general  public,  but  with  many  distin- 
guished persons,  for  the  interest  in  the  case  had  revived 
and  become  intensified  by  the  added  romance  of  the  ship- 
wreck and  Lord  Gaunt's  heroic  conduct. 

The  public  is  as  fickle  as  the  wind.  It  had  all  along 
regarded  Lord  Gaunt  as  guilty,  and  at  first  had  been 
deeply  incensed  against  him ;  the  public  always  is  when 
the  wrongdoer  happens  to  be  a  person  of  rank.  But  al- 
though Lord  Gaunt  was  still  deemed  guilty,  popular  feel- 
ing had  swung  round.  After  all,  the  unhappy  woman  had 
been  a  "  bad  lot."  And  then  again  she  had  been  Lord 
Gaunt's  wife,  and  with  Englishmen  there  still  lingers  a 
trace  of  the  old  feeling — though  they  will  not  admit  it — 
that  a  man  has  a  right  to  do  what  he  chooses  with  his 
wife. 

And  then  the  story  of  Gaunt's  unselfish  conduct  on 
board  the  Pevensey  Castle  had  touched  the  public  in  its 
tenderest  part — its  sentiment.  It  argued  that  a  man  who 
could  so  cheerfully  risk  his  life  for  his  fellow  man  ought 
certainly  not  be  hanged — though  it  should  be  proven  that 
he  did  kill  his  wife  in  a  heat  of  passion. 

So  the  court  was  crammed,  and  the  sentiment  which  an- 
imated most  of  those  present  was  that  of  sympathy  with 
the  accused,  and  the  feeling  grew  much  stronger  when 
Lord  Gaunt  stepped  into  the  dock. 

Gaunt  was  a  good-looking  man,  but  he  possessed  that 
which  is  more  valuable  to  a  man  than  regularity  of  fea- 
ture— that  peculiar  air  which  we  call  "  distinguished,"  and 
which  ahvays  impresses  the  individual  or  the  crowd. 

lie  was  pale,  of  course,  but  he  was  perfectly  calm,  and 
though  grave,  did  not  appear  at  all  anxious.  Every  eye 
was  turned  upon  him,  and  he  met  the  concentrated  gaze 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  215 

—that  gaze  which  fills  most  of  us,  even  under  the  most 
favorable  circumstances,  with  nervous  terror.  Gaunt  met 
it  quite  steadily.  Only  for  one  moment  did  his  eyes  falter 
and  the  expression  of  his  face  change ;  it  was  when  his 
eyes  rested  upon  the  sweet  pale  face  of  the  girl  who,  clad 
in  Quakerish  simplicity,  sat  beside  Lady  Pauline  in  an  in- 
conspicuous part  of  the  court. 

Decima  met  his  glance,  saw  the  color  rise  to  his  face, 
then  leave  it  again ;  saw  his  lips  twitch  as  if  with  a  sud- 
den pang  of  pain,  and  her  own  eyes  filled  with  hushed 
tears,  and  her  lips  quivered.  He  turned  away  instantly,  as 
if  he  could  not  bear  to  see  her  there ;  and  she  understood. 

The  venerable  judge  on  the  bench  had  been  a  friend  of 
Lord  Gaunt's  father ;  among  the  titled  and  distinguished 
people  present  were  many  who  knew  Gaunt  personally ; 
all  of  them  knew  him  by  repute  as  a  famous  traveler,  and 
a  man  absolutely  without  fear.  The  women  sighed  as 
they  looked  at  him ;  the  men  exchanged  glances  of  pity. 

"  Marriages  are  made  in  Heaven !  Oh,  are  they  ?  "  re- 
marked one  man  to  another.  "  Just  look  at  that  chap ! 
I  suppose  there  isn't  a  better  fellow  in  the  world  than 
(Taunt.  I  was  at  Eton  with  him,  and  I've  known  him  all 
my  life.  He's  as  straight  as  a  dart,  and  got  the  pluck  of 
the  very  devil.  He  wouldn't  hurt  a  fly  in  cold  blood,  and 
he  thinks  nothing  of  risking  his  life  for  some  stranger  on 
board  the  same  ship.  And  yet  that  fellow's  whole  life  is 
made  miserable  because  he  stood  up  before  a  parson  for 
ten  or  twelve  minutes,  and  remarked  that  he  took  a  certain 
woman  for  his  wife.  Not  only  is  his  whole  life  made  mis- 
erable, but  he's  going  to  be  scragged  because,  driven  pretty 
well  mad,  I  dare  say,  by  the  woman,  he  puts  an  end  to  her !  " 

"  Yes,"  assented  his  friend.  "  Matrimony  is  the  very 
deuce.  But  the  '  New  Woman'  is  going  to  abolish  it,  isn't 
she  ?  If  so,  I  shall  vote  for  her  all  the  time.  I  suppose 
there's  no  doubt  about  Gaunt's  having  done  this  ?  " 

The  other  man  shook  his  head.  "  I'm  afraid  not,"  he 
said.  And  it  was  the  general  opinion. 

The  attorney-general  was  neither  bitter  nor  vindictive, 
but  his  speech  was  necessarily  a  strong  argument  for  the 
conviction  of  the  prisoner,  and  all  who  heard  it,  even  be- 
fore the  witnesses  were  put  in  the  box,  felt  that  the  case 
was  very  black  against  Gaunt,  and  as  the  evidence  was 


216  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

skilfully  marshaled  by  the  prosecution,  every  one  in  court 
was  convinced  that  unless  Sir  James,  the  counsel  for  the 
prisoner,  was  in  possession  of  some  very  strong  evidence 
to  meet  that  of  the  prosecution  the  verdict  would  be  one 
of  «  Guilty." 

Gaunt  sat  erect,  with  his  hands  resting  lightly  on  the 
edge  of  the  dock,  or  now  and  again  he  leaned  against  the 
partition,  with  folded  arms.  He  was  not  indifferent  as 
to  the  result  of  this  wordy  war  between  the  legal  gentle- 
men who  were  fighting  for  and  against  him,  but  he  was 
thinking,  not  so  much  of  the  coming  verdict,  but  of  the, 
white-faced  girl  who  sat  with  tightly-compressed  lips  and 
downcast  eyes,  which  now  and  again  she  raised  to  his 
with  a  glance  of  infinite  compassion  and  infinite  sorrow. 

The  short  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  or,  rather  the 
light  in  the  badly-windowed  court  was  fading,  when  the 
case  for  the  prosecution  closed.  As  the  last  witness  left 
the  box,  the  audience — for  they  resembled  the  audience 
in  a  theater,  in  the  closeness  of  their  attention,  and  their 
eagerness  to  grasp  every  detail — the  packed  crowd  drew 
a  long  breath. 

Just  below  the  dock  stood  a  little  group  of  Gaunt's 
friends.  There  were  Bobby,  and  Bright,  and  Mr.  Lang. 
They  all  turned  and  looked  up  at  Gaunt  with  a  smile 
which  they  endeavored  to  make  encouraging ;  but  Gaunt 
saw  behind  the  smile  their  anxiety  and  apprehension. 
The  attorney-general  and  Mr.  Boskitt  between  them, 
aided  by  the  evidence,  had  for  the  present  convinced  the 
jury  of  the  prisoner's  guilt. 

Sir  James  rose,  with  his  well  known  air  of  quiet  assur- 
ance and  complete  confidence  in  his  client's  innocence,  and 
he  spoke  as  if  no  man  in  his  senses,  certainly  not  tin- 
twelve  intelligent  gentlemen  in  the  jury  box,  could  for 
one  moment  be  induced  to  believe  mat  such  a  man  as 
Lord  Gaunt  could  be  guilty  of  so  cowardly  a  crime  as  the 
.murder  of  a  defenseless  woman — even  though  that  woman 
were  his  wife. 

It  was  a  magnificent  speech,  and  it  brought  the  tears  to 
the  eyes  of  many  of  the  listeners.  But  though  the  jury 
might  feel  inclined  to  weep  at  the  eloquent  description  of 
Lord  Gaunt's  ruined  life,  wrecked  by  his  unfortunate 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  <*Vt 

marriage,  Sir  James'  speech  had  not,  they  felt,  disposed 
of  the  evidence  against  the  prisoner. 

Sir  James  called  witness  after  witness,  and  they  one 
and  all  testified  to  the  noble  character  of  the  prisoner, 
and  declared  their  conviction  that  he  was  incapable  of 
the  crime  with  which  he  was  charged.  The  evidence  in- 
tensified the  sympathy  of  the  listeners,  but,  alas  !  it  did 
not  prove  Lord  Gamit's  innocence.  Everything  that 
could  be  proved  in  his  favor  was  brought  forward  by  Sir 
James,  but  how  little  it  was,  how  small  it  appeared  against 
the  black  mass  of  evidence  which  the  attorney-general 
had  brought  against  the  accused  ! 

Two  men,  standing  not  very  far  from  each  other  in  a 
corner  of  the  court,  felt  as  if  the  verdict  had  been  already 
pronounced,  and  both  their  faces  flushed  with  the  antici- 
pation of  vindictive  satisfaction.  Both  Mershoii  and 
Morgan  Thorpe  were  thirsting  for  that  one  word 
*'  Guilty,"  and  as  they  glanced  at  the  grave  face  of  the 
foreman  of  the  jury  they  could  almost  fancy  that  the 
word,  the  fatal  word,  was  already  forming  on  his  lips. 

Gaunt  himself  was  convinced  that  there  was  no  hope. 
As  the  attorney-general  began  his  reply  to  the  defense, 
Gaunt  dre\v  himself  up,  and  gripped  the  edge  of  the  clock 
firmly.  If  Lady  Pauline  would  only  take  Decima  away. 

As  if  she  had  heard  his  unuttered  prayer,  Lady  Pauline 
at  that  moment  whispered  :  "Come  away  now,  Decima  !  " 

But  Decima  shook  her  head  and  her  hands  strained  to- 
gether still  more  closely  in  her  lap. 

What  was  it  the  attorney-general  was  saying,  "  knock- 
ing," as  one  of  the  barristers  whispered,  "knocking  with 
every  word  a  fresh  nail  in  the  prisoner's  coffin  V" 

"  The  evidence  against  the  prisoner  is  overwhelming. 
The  unhappy  woman  was  stabbed  in  his  rooms.  She 
Avas  found  covered  by  his  coat.  The  weapon  with  which 
the  deed  was  done  was  his.  Xo  one  else,  no  other  man, 
entered  that  awful  room  that  night." 

At  this  point  of  his  terrible  eloquence  he  had  paused, 
for  there  had  come  from  the  back  of  the  court  a  hoarse 
and  derisive  laugh. 

The  attorney-general  repeated  the  last  words,  "  No 
other  man  entered  that  room  that  night ! " 

The  laugh  was  repeated  also. 


218  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

The  attorney-gene  ml  stopped  and  looked  round  indig- 
nantly ;  the  usher  cried  ••  Silence  !  "  The  judge  looked 
up  sternly  from  his  notes  ;  some  of  the  ladies  laughed  hys- 
terically. There  was  a  confusion  at  the  back  of  the  court, 
from  which  the  strange  sound  had  proceeded;  a  man's 
voice,  thin  and  feeble,  yet  penetrating,  came  across  the 
crowded  room,  as  if  he  were  addressing  the  judge. 

The  judge  held  up  his  hand. 

-•  silence  !  "  he  commanded ;  then  as  the  silence  fell  he 
said,  •'  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  disturbance  ?  Bring 
that  disorderly  person  forward." 

A  policeman,  drawing  a  man  with  him,  pushed  his  way 
through  the  crowd.  The  man  was  pale  and  emaciated, 
and  the  effect  of  his  pallor  Avas  increased  by  his  red  hair 
and  bloodshot  eyes. 

"  Trevor  !  "  exclaimed  Thorpe  under  his  breath. 

"  Jackson !  "  thought  Gaunt.  "  Has  he  gone  mad  ?  What 
will  they  do  with  the  poor  devil  ?  " 

But  if  Jackson  were  mad  he  concealed  his  insanity 
with  admirable  art.  Of  all  present  he  was  the  most  calm, 
saving,  perhaps,  the  judge  and  the  prisoner. 

"Why  have  you  made  this  disturbance  V"  asked  the 
judge,  sternly. 

Trevor  looked  up  at  the  bench  and  then  around  the 
court. 

"  I  laughed !  "  he  said.  His  tone  was  respectful  enough, 
but  it  was  suggestive  of  a  kind  of  sullen  contempt.  He 
was  breathing  painfully,  and  his  head  was  thrust  forward, 
as  if  he  were  too  weak  to  stand  upright.  "  I  laughed  at 
the  attorney-general's  speech,"  he  continued.  "  He  said 
no  other  man  besides  Lord  Gaunt  went  into  the  room 
that  night,  and  I  happen  to  know  that  one  did.'1 

Sir  James  rose  quickly,  and  turned  to  Mr.  Pelforcl. 

"  Who  is  it  ? "  he  demanded. 

Mr.  Pelford  shook  his  head. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  ! "  he  replied  with  agitation. 

The  judge  held  up  his  hand  to  still  the  murmur  which 
had  arisen. 

"  Do  you  offer  yourself  as  a  witness  !  "  he  asked. 

Trevor  nodded,  and  coughed.  He  was  got  into  the  wit- 
ness box  amidst  intense  excitement. 

The  attorney-general  rose. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  219 

"My  lord,  I  need  scarcely  say  that  I  am  quite  ignorant 
— that  I  know  nothing  of  this  person,  nor  of  the  evidence 
which  he  is  about  to  give  !  " 

Sir  James  rose. 

"My  lord,"  he  began  in  anything  but  his  usual  sei, 
sessed  manner,  "I  am  as  ignorant  of  this  person  ai 
evidence  as  my  learned  friend  ;  but  my  client,  the  pri. 
at  the  bar,  is  desirous  that  the  truth  and  all  the 
shall  be   told  respecting  this  terrible  tragedy." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  applause,  which  was  instantly; 
suppressed. 

"  I  myself  will  examine  the  witness,"  said  the  judge r 
"  But  perhaps  it  will  be  still  better  that  we  should  permit 
him  to  make  his  statement." 

The  two  eminent  counsel  bowed  in  concurrence. 

"  You  say,"  said  the  judge,  "  that  a  man,  other  than  the 
prisoner,  entered  his  rooms  at  Prince's  Mansions  the  night 
of  the  murder.  Tell  us  what  you  know  of  the  case  and 
remember  that  you  are  under  your  oath." 

Trevor  leaned  over  the  edge  of  the  box. 

"  I  say  that  a  man  entered  Lord  Gaunt's  rooms  that 
night.  He  called  at  the  house  in  Cardigan  Terrace  and 
inquired  for  Mrs.  Dalton." 

A  fit  of  coughing  checked  him  for  a  time  ;  when  he  had 
recovered  from  it  he  resumed,  with  difficulty,  and  still 
more  hoarsely,  "  The  man  was  told  that  Mrs.  Dalton  was 
confined  to  her  room  with  a  headache.  He  was  turning 
the  corner  of  the  street  when  he  saw  her  leave  the  house 
and  get  into  a  cab.  He  wanted  to  know  where  she  was 
going  ;  he  called  another  cab  and  followed  her " 

The  attorney-general  arose.  He  was  going  to  say  that 
this  was  not  evidence  ;  but  the  judge  held  up  his  hand 
and  the  attorney-general  resumed  his  seat. 

Trevor  had  not  glanced  at  him,  but  waited  stolidly  un- 
til the  judge  signed  to  him  to  go  on. 

"  He  saw  her  go  into  Prince's  Mansions.  He  thought 
she  had  gone  to  visit  a  man  who  lived  there — a  man  he 
knew.  He  went  into  a  public  house  and  got  a  drink- 
several — then  he  Avent  down  to  the  Mansions.  He  meant 
to  ring  the  bell,  but  he  found  the  door  ajar,  and  he  went 
in.  There  was  no  one  in  the  corridor ;  he  went  into  the 
drawing-room.  Mrs.  Dalton  was  there — alone." 


220  TIEIJ  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

At  this  point  the  excitement  in  the  court  became  so 
intense  that  a  murmur  arose  which  rendered  the  voice  of 
the  witness  almost  inaudible.    Heads  were  craned  forward 
in  his  direction,  every  eye  was  fixed  upon  him.     Tiv 
seemed  utterly  indifferent  still. 

'•She  was  alone.  The  man  and  she  had  some  talk. 
He  loved  her;  he  was  jealous.  A  few  nights  before  she 
had  promised  to  marry  him.  That  night,  in  Lord  Gaunt's 
rooms,  she  laughed  at  the  man  ;  she  told  him  that  she 
was  married  already ;  had  been  married  all  the  time,  and 
had  been  fooling  him.  More  than  that,  she  had  been  help- 
ing her  brother  to  rob  him.  The  man  went  mad,  for  a 
moment  and  he  stabbed  her ! " 

A  cry  escaped  the  crowded  court.  Dec i ma's  hands 
were  stretched  out  toward  Gaunt  for  an  instant,  then 
clasped  on  her  bosom.  Trevor  was  quite  unmoved  by  the 
excitement  surging  around  him,  and  he  went  on  in  a  hol- 
low and  impassive  vo: 

"  There  was  a  foolish  kind  of  dagger  lying  on  the 
ground  near  him,  and  he  caught  it  up  and  stabbed  her 
with  it.  She  was  dead  in  an  instant ;  it  must  have  gone 
straight  into  her  heart.  He  laid  her  on  the  sofa,  and 
covered  her  with  a  fur  coat  he  found  lying  there.  Then 
he  left  the  rooms,  and  by  luck  no  one  saw  him." 

A  lit  of  coughing  seized  him  again  at  this  point,  lie 
went  on  after  a  moment  or  two,  holding  his  blood-stained 
handkerchief  in  his  wasted  and  twitching  hand. 

"  No  one  saw  him  and  he  got  away.  No  one  would 
ever  have  suspected  him,  and  an  innocent  man  would 
have  suffered.  But  certain  things  happened.  The  inno- 
cent man  saved  the  real  murderer's  life.  The  cabman 
who  drove  him  to  the  street  in  which  the  Mansions  are.  is 
in  court."  He  glanced  toward  the  end  of  the  room.  '•  So 
is  the  barmaid  who  served  him  with  the  liquor.  They 
have  not  come  forward  before  because  the  cabman 
thought  the  case  was  clear  against  Lord  Gaunt,  and 
didn't  want  to  be  troubled,  and  the  barmaid—  Well  she 
had  no  reason  to  connect  the  man  with  the  case." 

He  paused,  struggling  for  breath. 

Sir  James  rose.  He  was  very  pale,  and  his  usually 
firm  voice  shook  during  the  first  few  words. 

"  All  through  this  statement  you  have  spoken  of  « the 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  221 

man.'  You  have  charged  some  one  with  the  murder  of 
Lady  Gaunt.  I  ask  you  the  name  of  the  man  you  thus 
charge  !  " 

Trevor  put  his  handkerchief  to  his  mouth  and  wiped 
his  blood-stained  lips.  "  Ralph  Trevor,"  he  said  in  a  hol- 
low voice.  "  I  am  the  man." 

No  one  who  was  present  in  court  has  ever  been  able  to 
give  a  clear  and  connected  account  of  what  followed, 
though  every  one  had  a  confused  impression  of  seeing 
and  hearing  several  witnesses  in  the  box  after  Trevor  had 
been  carried  out.  But  the  impression  is  blurred  by  that 
which  followed,  when  the  jury,  without  leaving  their 
seats,  returned  a  verdict  of  "  Not  Guilty ! "  and  the 
judge  in  a  few  faltering  words  of  sympathy,  pronounced 
Lord  Gaunt  a  free  man. 

The  officials  found  it  utterly  impossible  to  check  the 
roar  of  applau.sc  with  which  the  crowd  received  the  ver- 
dict, and  the  judge's  expression  of  sympathy,  and  Gaunt 
found  himself  carried,  swept  us  it  were,  into  the  open  air, 
a  free  man  indeed  ! 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

EKJIITKKX  months  after  the  acquittal  of  Lord  Gaunt 
and  the  death  of  Ralph  Trevor — he  died  in  prison  within 
a  week  of  the  trial — there  was  a  garden  party  at  Lady 
Roborough's. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  usual  garden  party  is  a 
deadly,  dull  affair — who  has  not  suffered  at  it  ? — but 
Lady  Roborough's  was  an  exception  to  the  dreary  rule. 
She  was  a  clever  old  lady,  far  too  clever  and  good-natured 
tt  >  get  together  a  mob  of  people  and  permit  them  to  bore 
themselves  to  death  through  the  hottest  and  most  trying 
part  of  a  summer's  day.  At  Roborough  you  were  sure  to 
find  plenty  of  shade — the  gardens  were  the  pride  of  the 
county — and  plenty  of  amusement.  There  were  four 
capital  tennis  courts,  for  instance,  a  wonderful  bowling 
green,  a  lake  with  boats,  tents  with  an  unlimited  supply 
of  tea,  ices  and  more  solid  refreshments,  a  first-rate  band, 
not  too  loud,  in  the  open  air,  and  music  in  the  drawing- 
room,  if  the  day  should  be  wet — as  it  sometimes  is  in 
England — and  there  were  shrubberies  and  shady  walks 


2-£  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

in  which  one  could  flirt  or  smoke  the  surreptitious  ciga- 
rette in  safety. 

Lady  Roborough,  looking  scarcely  a  day  older,  moved 
about  the  grounds,  applauding  the  tennis  players,  con- 
niving at  the  flirting,  cautioning  the  boating  parties  to 
"  be  careful,"  and  seeing  that  no  one  went  without  the 
precious  cup  of  tea.  Now  and  againyshe  persuaded  her- 
self to  take  a  rest,  and  seated  just  inside  the  big  marquee, 
whence  like  a  general  she  could  survey  her  toives,  she 
indulged  in  a  little  gossip  with  some  of  the  older 
guests,  who  liked  the  shaded  tents  better  than  the  tennis, 
the  boats  or  even  the  shrubbei 

"  A  great  success,  as  usual,  my  dear,"  remarked  Lady 
Ferndale,  who  sat  next  her. 

"  Everybody  seems  very  happy,  at  any  rate,  they  ap- 
pear to  be  amusing  themselves,"  admitted  Lady  Ro- 
borough. "  The  next  best  thing  to  being  young  is  to  be 
old  enough  to  like  to  watch  young  people." 

Lady  Ferndale  smiled. 

"You  must  be  enjoying  yourself,  then,"  she  said,  "for 
there  are  plenty  here.  How  pretty  some  of  the  girls  are  ! 
Do  you  think  any  of  us  were  half  as  good-looking  ?  " 

"  I  can  answer  for  one,  my  dear,"  responded  Lady 
Roborough,  touching  her  friend's  arm  affectionately. 
'•  But  there  are  some  very  good-looking  young  people 
here  this  afternoon.  If  I  were  inclined  to  be  vulgar — 
which,  by  the  way,  I  very  often  am — I  should  say  it  was 
quite  a  '  Beauty  Show  ! ' ' 

"How  awful!"  exclaimed  Lady  Ferndale;  but  she 
laughed.  "I  wonder  where  that  impressionable  man, 
my  husband,  is.  I  have  not  seen  him  for  the  last  hour. 
I  suppose  he  is  flirting  with  some  of  your  pretty  girls. 
Really,  I  am  inclined  to  feel  jealous!  " 

She  pretended  to  sigh,  and  Lady  Roborough  smiled. 

"  You  need  not  be,  my  dear,"  she  remarked.  "  Lord 
Ferndale  is  delightfully  general  in  his  admiration.  There 
is  always  safety  in  numbers,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  that  is  my  only  consolation  !  "  said  Lady  Fern- 
dale,  with  mock  gravity.  "Though  Edward  has  concen- 
trated his  attention  upon  Miss  Deane  of  late.  Is  that  he 
talking  to  her  no\\  ''.  H 

Lady  Ferndale  was  short-sighted. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  223 

Lady  Roborough  put  on  her  eyeglasses,  and  surveyed 
Decima  and  her  male  companion. 

"  No  that  is  young  Illminster,"  she  said. 

There  was  a  certain  significance  in  her  tone,  and  Lady 
Fernclale  glanced  at  her. 

"  What  a  sweet  girl  she  is ! "  she  said,  musingly. 
"  Xo\v,  I  really  don't  think  any  of  us  were  quite  so  lovely 
as  she  is,"  she  added. 

"  I  suppose  she  is.  Oh,  yes,  of  course  she  is,"  assented 
Lady  Roborough,  "but  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  never 
think  of  her  prettiness  when  I  am  with  her.  There  is 
something  about  her  that  *  passeth  show,'  as_  our  friend 
Hamlet  says." 

"  I  know,"  said  Lady  Fernclale.  "  She  fascinates  me, 
and  I  quite  sympathize  with  Edward ;  indeed,  I'm  rather 
more  in  love  with  her  than  he  is." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Lady  Roborough,  still  looking  toward 
Decima,  "  there  are  girls  who  are  as  beautiful,  and  cer- 
tainly more  clever  and  accomplished.  For  instance,  you 
scarcely  ever  heard  her  say  anything  brilliant  or  witty." 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  particularly  care  for  brilliant  or 
witty  girls,"  interpolated  Lady  Fernclale. 

"  And  she  has  few  accomplishments.  Her  charm  is  a 
nameless  one,  or  difficult  to  describe.  It  must  be — do 
you  think  it  is  her  'goodness?'  she  asked,  doubtfully. 

"  Sometimes  I  think  it  is.  She  is  awfully  good  ;  you 
know  she  was  Lady  Pauline's  ward  or  charge.  And  yet 
there  isn't  a  trace  of  the  Pharisee  in  her." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  her  gentleness,"  suggested  Lady  Fern- 
dale.  "  So  few  girls  have  that  nowadays.  I'm  afraid  it's 
rather  unfashionable.  Girls  like  to  be  thought  fast  and 
*  smart.'  Dear  me,  how  I  hate  that  word ! — and  are 
ashamed  of  possessing  that  inconvenient  thing — a  heart. 
Sometimes  I'm  inclined  to  think  that  in  the  next  genera- 
tion or  two  it  will  be  only  the  men  who  will  be  capable  of 
the  '  emotions.'  Now  Decima  Deane  is  like  a  sensitive 
leaf." 

"  Too  sensitive,  I'm  afraid,"  said  Lady  Roborough. 

"  Ah,  yes !  and  yet  how  admirably  self-contained  and 
self-possessed  she  is  !  I  like  to  sit  and  watch  her  face — 
it  is  like  a  mirror,  and  yet  so  grave  and  calm,  and — what 
do  you  call  it  ? — not  impassive,  but ;) 


C-J4  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  All  serene,"  suggested  Lady  Roborough. 

Lady  Ferndale  laughed. 

"  That  sounds  like  slang  !  "  she  said.  u  But  I  see  you 
know  what  I  mean.  She  looks  to  me  like  one  of  those 
rare  lilies  which  have  stood  the  strain  of  wind  and  rain, 
and  though  they  still  stand  erect,  show  something  of  the 
ordeal  through  which  they  have  passed."1 

"  There  is  nothing  faded  about  our  lily,  though,"  said 
Lady  Roborough.  "  She  is  still  a  girl,  and  as  fresh  as  a 
newly-opened  blossom." 

"Yes.  Is  she  quite  well  now?"  asked  Lady  Ferndale. 
"She  was  so  very  ill,  and  looked  so  pale  and  frail  for  so 
long  that  I  began  to  fear  that  the  lily  would  not  hold  up 
its  head  again." 

"  She  is  better — quite  well,  I  think.  She  is  really  very 
strong  ;  indeed,  she  must  be,  or  she  would  not  have  pulled 
through.  She  was  playing  tennis  just  now — a  hard  game, 
and  she  was  on  the  winning  side." 

"  I  wonder  she  has  not  married,"  said  Lady  Ferndale. 
"I  am  glad  her  engagement  with  that  man,  Mr.  Mershon, 
was  broken  off.  What  has  become  of  him — do  you 
know?" 

Lady  Roborough  shook  her  head. 

"  Xo ;  he  left  The  Firs  more  than  a  year  ago.  It  is  for 
sale,  you  know.  I  don't  know  what  has  become  of  him, 
but  I  think  I  heard  that  he  had  settled  in  some  place  on 
the  continent.  Yes,"  she  went  on,  after  a  pause,  "  it  is 
strange  that  Decima  does  not  marry.  She  has  had  one  or 
two  offers  during  the  last  twelve  months,  I  know,  though 
she — you  know  her  ! — has,  of  course,  not  told  me  of  them." 

"And  there  will  be  a  third  directly,"  said  Lady  Fern- 
dale.  "That  is  Lord  Illminster  with  her,  is  it  not  ?" 

"  Yes.  Oh,  yes,  he  will  propose  to  her.  He  is  dying 
to  do  so,  for  he  is  very  much  in  love  with  her.  It  is  an 
open  secret ;  indeed,  he  has  told  me,  and  he  has  asked  me 
to  help  him.  But  I  declined.  Decima  is  not  like  most 
girls ;  and  one  feels  that  one  would  be  treading  on  very 
delicate  ground  if  one  ventured  to  play  the  part  of  match- 
maker with  her." 

Lady  Ferndale  nodded  sympathetically. 

"  I  should  not  like  to  venture — I  could  not !  Do  you 
think  she  will  accept  him  ?  " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  225 

« I  don't  know.  Sometimes  I  think  she  may  ;  at  others 
I  think  not." 

"  That's  very  non-committal,  my  dear  !  "  responded  Lady 
Ferndale,  with  a  smile. 

"  It  expresses  what  I  feel  exactly.  But  Decima,  with- 
out meaning  it,  of  course — for  she  is  simplicity  itself— is 
rather  deceptive.  For  instance,  sometimes  she  will  be 
quite — quite  friendly  to  Lord  Illminster,  and  he  will  go 
about  looking  as  happy  as  a  sandboy  ;  and  presently  he 
will  come  to  me  and  make  a  dolorous  moan,  and  complain 
that  Miss  Deane  has  either  passed  him  in  the  road  with  a 
cold  bow,  or  answered  him  so  absently,  with  such  a  pre- 
occupied and  dreamy  manner,  that  he  is  sure  there  is  no 
hope  for  him." 

"  Poor  fellow  !  How  I  pity  him  !  Imagine  being  really 
in  love  with  Decima  Deane  !  How  a  man  could  suffer !  " 

"  Oh,  he  suffers  badly  enough,"  assented  Lady  Robor- 
ough,  placidly.  "  But  I  don't  feel  for  him  so  much.  I 
think  of  Decima.  I  want  her  to  be  happy." 

"  And  she  is  not  now  ?  " 

Lady  Roborough  looked  doubtful,  and  rather  sad. 

"  I  don't  know.  I'm  afraid  not.  That  absent,  dreamy 
look,  which  makes  poor  Lord  Illminster  so  wretched,  is 
too  often  on  her  face.  It  comes  quite  suddenly,  just  after 
she  has  been  talking  and  laughing  quite  brightly,  as  if  she 
had  suddenly  remembered  something.  The  expression 
passes  quickly  enough  sometimes,  but  it  has  been  there 
and  one  cannot  forget  it." 

"  Wasn't — wasn't  there  something  between  her  and 
Lord  Gaunt  ?  "  said  Lady  Ferndale,  hesitatingly. 

"  I  don't  know.  They  were  very  much  together — she 
helped  him  in  the  village.  Indeed,  all  the  great  improve- 
ment—  But  you  know  all  about  that  as  well  as  I  do.  But 
Lord  Gaunt  was  so  much  older,  and  was  married — though 
we  did  not  know  it.  Oh,  no,  there  was  nothing — how 
could  there  be  ?  " 

"  There  was  something  said — hinted — at  the  trial ! " 

"  Oh,  no  !  She  chanced  to  call  upon  her  brother  when 
Lord  Gaunt  went  to  his  rooms  that  night.  There  was 
some  suggestion,  some  hint  of  a  love  affair  between  them  ; 
but  it  must  have  been  groundless.  Otherwise  why  is  he 
not  here  ?  " 


±y,  HER  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

"Yes;  nothing  has  n  of  him  since  the  trial," 

remarked  Lady  Ferndale. 

••  No,*'  said  Lady  Rohorough.     "  He  is  abroad  in  A : 
one  reads  about    him  every  now  and  then.     I  don't  sup- 
pose he  will  ever  come  back  to  England." 

"  So  Edward  says.  What  a  pity  it  is  that  a  place  like 
Leafmore  should  be  shut  up !  There  seems  a  Fate  in  it. 
\uw,  I  pity  Lord  Gaunt.  I  liked  him  so  much." 

••  So  did  we  all,  and  we  all  pity  him,"  said  Lady  Robor- 
ough,  with  a  sigh.  "But  what  will  you?  There  is  one 
great  mistake  which  a  man  cannot  commit — an  unfortu- 
nate marriage;  and  he  can  never  dodge  the  consequei  \ 
It  is  the  one  piece  of  folly  which  is  always  attended  by  its 
Nemesis." 

"  Poor  Lord  Gaunt !  And  Decima  lives  all  alone  with 
her  father.  Lady  Pauline  has  gone,  has  she  not ':  " 

"Oh,  yes,  some  time  ago.  Yes.  Decima  is  alone  with 
her  father.  Her  brother  is  at  Sandhurst,  He  passed  last 
March.  He  worked  terribly  hard,  and  won  his  way  back 
into  all  our  hearts  before  he  left." 

"  It  must  be  a  great  responsibility  for  her,"  said  Lady 
Ferndale.  "Mr.  Deane  is  more  absorbed  in  his  fads  than 
over,  isn't  he  '-.  I  saw  him  for  a  few  minutes,  once,  when 
I  called,  and  I  think  he  was  scarcely  conscious  of  my 
presence." 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  great  responsil  >ility,"  said  Lady  Roborough. 
"  But  Decima  is  not  the  girl  to  .shirk  it.  Xo  daughter 
could  be  more  loving  and  devoted." 

'•  What  a  wife  some  happy  man  will  have  !  I  hope  he 
will  be  Lord  Illminster  :  he  is  a  line  young  fellow,  and  it 
would  be  a  good  match." 

-  ITush,  she  is  coming  !  "  said  Lady  Roborough,  warn- 
ingly,  as  Decima  came  alone  across  the  lawn,  with  her 
racket  in  her  hands.  "  Well,  my  dear,  what  have  you 
done  with  Lord  Illminster  ?  "  asked  the  old  lady.  "  Come 
into  the  shade." 

She  took  Decima's  hand   and  drew   her  into   the  chair 
beside  her,  and  kept  the  small  hand,  and  patted  it  cai 
ingly.     Every  one   felt  a   strong  temptation    to  pat  and 
caress  the  girl. 

"Lord  Illminster  lias  gone  to  play  tennis,"  said  Decima. 
"  I  was  down  for  the  set,  but  I  felt  rather  tired,  and  knew 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  227 

he  would  lose  if  I  played  ;  so  I  asked  him  to  get  a  stronger 
partner." 

"  For  which  he  was  very  grateful,  I'm  sure,"  remarked 
her  ladyship,  dryly. 

"Oli,   yes,''  said   Decima,   innocently.     "He   play 
well ;  it  would  have  been  a  pity  to  make  him  lose  his  set." 

••  Yes,  a  great  pity,"  assented  Lady  Roborough  as  dry- 
ly as  1%fore.  "  Will  you  have  some  tea,  my  dear?  " 

She  looked  round  for  one  of  the  neat  maid-servants  who 
were  in  attendance,  but  Decima  rose. — "I'll  get  a  cup. 
And  may  I  bring  some  for  you  and  Lady  Ferndale?  " 

"Isn't  that  like  her  !  "  said  the  old  lady,  when  Decima 
was  out  of  hearing.  "  You  can  never,  by  any  chance, 
tempt  her  to  think  of  herself  only.  Thank  you,  my  dear," 
as  Decima  came  back  with  the  maid  bearing  the  tray. 
"And  have  you  been  enjoying  yourself?" 

"  Yes,  very  much,"  said  Decima,  with  her  soft,  bright 
smile.  "It  is  so  lovely  here,  and  every  one  is  so  happy 
that  it  makes  one  happy  just  to  be  with  them.  And  I 
have  been  on  the  lake." 

"  Yes  ?     Who  rowed  you,  dear  ?  " 

"  Lord  Illminster,"  said  Decima,  as  innocently  and 
unconsciously  as  before.  "  And  I  played  two  sets,  and 
Lord  Illminster  tried  to  teach  me  bowls,  but  I  was  very 
stupid  and  awkward " 

"Yes,  I  hope  he  wasn't  angry." 

"  Angry  ?  Lord  Illminster  !  "  Decima  laughed.  "  Oh, 
no  ;  I  don't  think  he  could  be ;  he  is  always  so  patient  and 
kind." 

"  And  when  did  you  hear  from  your  brother,  Decima?" 
asked  Lady  Roborough,  changing  the  subject  with  sus- 
picious abruptness. 

"  Oh,  yesterday.  Such  a  delightful  letter !  It  was 
almost  as  if  Bobby  were  talking.  I  don't  think  any  one 
in  the  world  can  be  funnier  than  he  is,  when  he  chooses. 
Yes,  it  was  just  like  hearing  him  talk.  And  he  is  so  pop- 
ular, one  can  see  !  Let  me  try  and  remember  some  of 
the  things  he  says — but  you  want  to  hear  him  say  them." 

She  stopped  suddenly  and  rather  shyh7,  for  she  was 
always  rather  carried  out  of  herself  when  Bobby  was  on 
the  tapis.  A  young  man  had  sauntered  up  behind  the 
three  ladies. 


II EH  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

"  Weren't  you  speaking  of  Lord  (Taunt  just  now,  Lady 
Ferndale,  and  asking  if  any  one  had  heard  of  him  ?  I 
happened  to  hear  you  mention  his  name,  and  I  thought 
you  would  like  to  know "' 

Lady  Roborough  looked  up  at  his  face  quickly,  and  with 
the  expression  which  a  lady's  face  wears  when  she  wishes 
to  silence  the  speaker ;  but  the  young  man  wai-L  rather 
shortsighted,  and  did  not  notice  her  look.  Alas  !  Tie  was 
young,  and  with  most  of  us  it  is  not  until  we  have 
reached  "forty  year,"  that  we  learn  the  full  significance 
of  a  lady's  glance  ! " 

"  I've  just  heard  of  him,"  he  went  on,  fully  convinced 
that  he  was  making  himself  agreeable,  and   imparting 
keenly-desired  intelligence.     "One  of  the  men  of  L 
ploring  party — you  know  Lord  Gaunt  is  exploring  the 
source  of  the  Oawanji;'" 

"  Yes,  oh.  yes,  we  know,"  said  Lady  Roborough,  rather 
curtly,  very  curtly,  for  her;  but  he  blundered  on.  He 
Avas  not  a  native  of  the  place,  but  only  a  visitor  at  one  of 
the  neighboring  houses,  and  had  probably  not  heard  the 
name  of  the  young  lady  who  sat  so  quietly  beside  the  two 
old  ladies,  and  had  certainly  never  heard  of  it  in  connec- 
tion with  Lord  Gaunt. 

"This  man  dined  at  the  Travelers', — the  club— you 
know — 

"  We've  all  heard  of  the  Travelers',  Mr.  Jones,"  said 
Lady  Ferndale,  coldly.  . 

"  Yes,"  Mr.  Jones  fixed  his  eyeglass.  "  In  fact,  we  were 
giving  him  a  little  dinner  in  honor  of  his  return.  lie 
came  home  on  sick  leave,  you  know.  He  told  us  a  lot 
about  the  expedition,  but  nearly  all  his  talk  was  ot  Lord 
Gaunt.  It  seems  that  the  party  had  a  particularly  rough 
time  of  it;  no  end  of  perils  and  privations,  you  know.  I 
forget  how  many  days  they  were  without  food  and  water  ; 
and  once  or  twice  they  had  had  to  fight  their  way  through 
friendly  tribes — natives,  you  know ;  and  they  can  fight. 
And  he  says  that  L6rd  Gaunt  is  a— a  regular  1  'rick.  That 
was  his  word,  you  know,  and  according  to  him  it  is  just 
the  right  one." 

'3dady  Roborough  glanced  at  Becima.  She  was  leaning 
hack  in  her  chair,  and  her  face  was  pale  ;  but  her  eyes  were 
not  downcast,  but  fixed  before  her,  and  the  dreamy  ex- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  229 

pression  Lady  Roborough  had  spoken  of  was  in  them. 
She  seemed  as  if  she  were  far  away,  as  if  she  were 
scarcely  listening. 

"  He  says,"  continued  Mr.  Jones,  who  was  enjoying  him- 
self exceedingly,  "  that  Lord  Gaunt  is  simply  worshiped 
by  them  all ;  certainly  he — the  man  who  has  come  back — is- 
mad  enough  about  him  ! — and  that  whenever  there  is  any- 
thing in  the  way  of  hard  times  or  fighting,  Lord  Gaunt 
always  takes  the  lion's  share.  He  says  that  in  his  opinion 
Lord  Gaunt  doesn't  know  what  fear  is.  Always  in  the 
front  when  they  were  attacked,  and  never  down  on 
his  luck  for  a  moment!  He  says  that  Lord  Gaunt 
marched  at  the  head  of  his  party  for  three  days  with  a 
wound  in  his  thigh  that  would  have  sent  any  other  man 
to  hospital  for  three  months ". 

Lady  Roborough  broke  in  at  this  point,  with  a  kind  of 
desperation. 

"  Oh,  thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Jones ! "  she  said, 
sweetly — too  sweetly.  "  It's  very  good  of  you  to  tell  us 
this,  but— but  would  you  be  so  kind  as  to  go  over  to  the 
band  and  ask  them  to  play  again  ?  " 

Mr.  Jones  looked  rather  bewildered  at  this  decapitation 
of  his  little  story,  but  he  bleated  blandly  : 

"  Certainly  !  certainly  !  Delighted,  Lady  Roborough  !  " 
and  took  himself  off. 

Decima  sat  a  full  minute  without  moving ;  then  her  lips 
parted,  and  a  long  sigh  escaped  them  softly — so  softly  that 
only  Lady  Roborough  heard  it — and  she  glanced  at  the 
watch  at  her  waist— a  present  from  Bobby. 

"  It  is  time  for  me  to  go,  Lady  Roborough,"  she  said, 
and  she  spoke  quite  naturally,  and  even  with  a  smile. 
"  My  father  always  likes  me  to  be  home  a  little  before 
dinner,  and  indeed,"  smiling,  "  if  I  were  not,  he  would  not 
get  dressed ! " 

"And  what  is  the  wonderful  invention,  Decima?" 

Decima  smiled  again,  but  only  for  an  instant,  as  she 
replied,  gently  : 

"  It  is  something  for  extinguishing  fires,  I  think.  I 
don't  know  quite ;  but  I  think  it  is  a  kind  of  shell  which 
you  throw  into  the  flames,  and  it  explodes." 

"  Sounds  as  if  it  were  more  likely  to  cause  fire  than  to 
quench  it,"  remarked  Lady  Roborough.  "  Tell  them  to 


230  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

bring  a  carriage  round  for  Miss  Deane,  please,"  she 
to  one  of  the  servants. 

"  Oh,  no !     I  can  walk,"  said  Decima. 

"I've  no  doubt  you  can;  but  you  won't,  my  dear,"  said 
Lady  Roborough,  dryly.  "  My  dear  Decima,  you  are  too 
accustomed  to  having  your  own  way.  And  so  you  grow 
selfish  and  self-opinionated." 

A  look  of  alarm  and  penitence  began  to  steal  over  the 
sweet  face,  and  Lady  Roborough  exclaimed : 

"  You  little  goose  !  "  and  drawing  the  face  down  to  her, 
kissed  it  tenderly. 

As  she  leaned  back  in  the  carriage  Decima  closed  her 
eyes,  and  pictured  Gaunt  fighting  his  way  at  the  head  of 
the  weary  and  fever-stricken  expedition  ;  thought  of  him 
"  suffering  in  silence  and  in  strength,"  and  her  lips  mur- 
mured his  name  and  a  prayer  for  him,  as  the  tears  stole 
down  her  cheeks. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

OXE  evening  a  fortnight  later  Decima  dined  at  the 
Ferndales.'  It  had  not  been  a  dinner  party  or  she  would 
not  have  gone  without  her  father.  The  Ferndales  v. 
very  fond  of  her — who  was  not ! — and  she  had  spent  a 
very  enjoyable  evening ;  Lady  Ferndale  had  made  much 
of  her  and  Lord  Ferndale  had  exerted  himself  to  amuse 
her.  Their  daughter  was  married,  and  the  Ferndales 
Avere  quite  ready  and  anxious  to  take  her  into  their  girl's 
absent  place.  They  had  pressed  her  to  stay  the  night, 
but  she  had  come  home  because  she  kne\v  that  even  if 
her  father  did  not  miss  her  that  he  could  not  be  left. 

She  saw  the  light  burning  in  his  Avorkroom  as  she  Aveut 
up  the  path,  and  she  went  straight  to  him. 

lie  had  not  dressed  for  dinner  that  night,  and  he  looked 
more  untidy  and  dusty  eAren  than  usual.     Two  gas 
Avcre  flaring  away,  and  he  Avas  standing  at  his  bench  fill- 
ing some  glass  tubes  with  a  liquid  Avhich  he  poured  from 
an  iron  retort. 

"  Have  you  not  finished,  father  ?  "  she  said.     "  It  is  Arery 
late,  dear  !  "  , 

"Is  it?"  he  said,  pushing  his  unkempt  hair  aside;  "I 
didn't  knoAV.     I've   been   busy — Arery   busy.     This  is  a 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  231 

wonderful  idea  of  mine,  Decima !  Wonderful !  It  sur- 
passes anything  I  have  hitherto  done.  It  will  simply  revo- 
lutionize the  present  system  of  dealing  with  fires." 

"I  am  very  glad,  dear,"  said  Decima.  "But  will  you 
not  go  to  bed  now  ?  Let  me  turn  out  the  lights." 

"  Presently — presently  !  "  he  said.  "  This  invention  of 
•mine  is  simplicity  itself.  Of  course,  there  are  plenty  of 
hand  grenades,  and — er  — glass  bombs  in  the  market ;  but 
this  is  something  quite  new,  and  its  action  is  totally  dif- 
ferent to  that  upon  which  the  others  depend.  You  see 
this  tube  ?  It  contains  a  fluid — which  of  course,  is  my 
secret;  it's  marvelous  that  I  should  hit  upon  it!  It  pos- 
sesses most  extraordinary  qualities." 

"  It  smells  very  strange  and — and  rather  nasty,"  said 
Decima.  "  I  hope  it  isn't  dangerous,  dear  !  " 

" Dangerous  !"  he  said  impatiently.  "Oh,  no!  That 
is,  it  could  only  be  dangerous  in  the  hands  of  ignorant 
persons,  but  I  intend  to  have  full  directions  for  its  use 
pasted  on  each  tube.  All  you  have  to  do  in  the  event  of 
fire,  is  to  throw  one  of  the  tubes,  not  at  the  flames — there 
might  be  some  small  danger  then,  I  admit — not  at  the 
flames  but  at  the  point  which  they  would  reach  if  they 
remained  unchecked.  A  slight  explosion  then  takes  place, 
the  flames  are  dispersed,  choked,  so  to  speak,  and  your 
fire,  however  fierce,  is  extinguished.  I  have  been  making 
gome  experiments  to-night — I  will  show  you ' 

He  was  about  to  light  a  roll  of  paper  at  the  gas  jet,  but 
Decima  held  his  arm. 

"  Not  to-night  and  in  the  crowded  room,  father !  "  she 
pleaded.  "  Show  me  to-morrow  in  some  safer  place,  in 
the  open  air.  Go  to  bed  now,  dear,  you  look  tired." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  tired,"  he  said,  "  and  there  is  not  the 
lest  need  for  apprehension  or  alarm,  as  I  could  prove  to 
you  in  a  moment.  But  I  will  show  you  to-morrow.  Wait 
one  moment,"  he  added,  as  Decima  turned  out  one  of  the 
gas-jets.  lie  began  to  put  the  evil-smelling  things  aside, 
but  paused  and' pushed  his  hand  through  his  hair.  "  There 
was  something  I  wanted  to  tell  you,"  he  said  ;  "  I  can't 
think  what  it  was.  It  was  important,  too.  Dear  me  !  I 
can't  remember  for  the  moment."  He  stared  at  her 
vacantly,  then  went  on  as  if  he  had  suddenly  remembered. 
"  Ah,  yes  !  Lord  Illminster  called  this  afternoon." 


IIEi:   HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"Lord  Illminster?"  said  Decima,  with  some  surprise. 
"Why  did  he  call;'  lie  has  never  been  here  before. 
What  did  he  want?" 

His  eyes  and  hands  wandered  toward  the  precious 
tubes,  and  Decima  had  to  repeat  her  question. 

"Eh?  "he  said.     u  Ah,  yes !     He  came,   t  <u  as 

well  as  me  ! " 

"  To  see  me ?"  said  Decima.  "Oh,  about  the  archery 
meeting,  I  suppose?  lj»rd  Illminster  asked  me  to  help." 

••  Xo  ;  it  wasn't  about  archery."   said  Mr.   Deane  ;  -at 
least,  I  don't  think  he   mentioned  the   word   'arch' 
he  may  have  done  ;  it's  quite  possible.     lie  talked  a 
deal,  and  seemed  a  remarkably  pleasant  and  well-informed 
young  man.     When  I  say  '  well-informed,'  I  mean   on 
general  subjects.     I  could  not  get  him  to  understand  any 
of  my  inventions.     But  he  admitted  very   modestly   that 
his  scientific   education   had   been   neglected.     Xo !  the 
purport  of  his  visit  was  to  ask  me  if  I  would  give  my 
consent  to  his  proposing  to  you." 

"  Father ! "  exclaimed  Decima,  her  face  growing  red  for 
a  moment. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Deane,  as  if  they  were  discussing  an 
unimportant  detail.  "  You  seem  surprised.  Were  you 
not  aware  of  his  intentio; 

k-  Xo  !  "  said  Decima,  more  to  herself  than  to  him.  "I 
never  thought — never  suspected — 

"  He  made  his  request  in  an  extremely  nice  manner," 
said  Mr.  Deane,  turning  to  the  bench,  and  arranging  some 
tools  absently  ;  "  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  he  is  very  much 
in  earnest.  As  I've  said,  he  seems  to  me  an  exceedingly 
pleasant  and  agreeable  young  man." 

"  What — what  did  you  say,  father  ?"  faltered  Decima. 

"Oh,  I  gave  my  consent,''  he  said. 

"  Oh,  father  !  "  she  breathed.  "  Why  did  you  —how 
could  you?  I— 

'•  Why  not  ?  "  said  Mr.  Deane,  staring  at  her.  "  Surely 
you  can  have  no  objection  to  him,  Decima  ?  He  is  young, 
and  I  think  from  what  little  I  saw  of  him,  good-looking. 
He  is  an  earl — or  is  the  Illminster\s  a  barony?  I  forget. 
And  I  think  he  said  that  the  estate  was  a  large  one.  and 
that  there  would  be  proper  settlements.  In  fact,  I  in- 
ferred from  his  remarks,  that  he  would  leave  that  detail 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  233 

to  the  lawyers.  I  told  him  that  it  was  quite  unimpor- 
tant, because  this  invention  of  mine  would  place  you  far 
beyond  the  need  of  any  settlement — that,  in  fact,  you 
would  probably  be  one  of  the  richest  heiresses  in  England. 
He  is  coming  to-morrow  to  see  you  ;  and,  really,  Decima, 
I  think  you  might  do  well  to  accept  him.  You  are  still 
young,  absurdly  young,  but  not  too  young  to  be  married  ; 
and  now  that  you  have  broken  your  engagement  with 
Mr.  Mershon—  -"  His  mind  wandered,  and  he  rumpled 
his  hair,  and  stared  at  her  vacantly.  "  Yes,  I  should  ad- 
vise you  to  accept  Lord  Illminster. 

Decima  was  pale  now,  and  her  face  was  very  sad. 

"  I — I  cannot,  father  !  "  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  No  ?  "  he  said,  calmly.     «  Why  not  ?  " 

"  I  do  not — love — care  for  him,"  she  said.  "  He  is  very 
good  and  kind — but  I  could  not  marry  him.  I  shall 
never  marry  any  one."  She  smiled  wanly.  "I  am 
always  going  to  stay  with  you,  dear,  and  take  care  of 
you." 

"  That's  absurd,"  he  said,  pettishly.  "  You  speak  as 
if  I  were  a  child  and  incapable  of  taking  care  of  myself  1 
And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  don't  suppose  there  is  a  more 
practical  man  in  the  world  than  I  am.  You  had  better 
tell  Lord  Illminster,  when  he  comes  to-morrow  that  you 
accept." 

"  I  will  tell  him —  No,  I  will  write  to  him.  Come  now, 
father." 

She  extinguished  the  other  gas-jet,  after  looking  round 
carefully,  and  led  him  away.  He  maundered  up  and 
down  the  drawing-room  for  some  time,  talking,  not  of 
Lord  Illminster  and  his  proposal,  which  he  had  already 
completely  forgotten,  but  of  his  last  invention  for  the 
extinction  of  fire,  but  after  awhile  Decima  got  him  up  to 
his  room  and  in  the  solitude  of  her  own  was  free  to  think 
of  Lord  Illminster's  proposal.  She  had  had  no  suspicion 
of  it.  .  She  regarded  herself  as  so  different  from  other 
girls,  as  one  to  whom  marriage  was  an  impossibility,  that 
she  had  unconsciously  felt  that  others  also  must  so  re- 
gard her.  She  had  loved  one  man  with  all  her  heart  and 
soul,  and  though  she  could  never  be  his  wife,  she  must  go 
on  loving  him  while  life  lasted.  She  should  probably 
never  see  him  again,  but  she  was  his  still.  She  was  sorry 


£34  UEK  IIEAirrs  DESIRE. 

for  Lord  Illminster;  sorry  tluit  she,  all  unwittingly,  had 
been  so  friendly  with  him. 

She  wrote  a  short  letter  to  Lord  Illminster,  a  letter  of 
iisal,  touched  in  the  gentlest  phrases ;  but  definite. 
She  could  not  have  slept  with  the  letter  unwritten,  and 
having  written  it  she  dismissed  him  from  her  mind  and, 
with  her  last  waking  thoughts,  thought  of  the  man  she 
loved,  but  whom  she  should  never  niarrv 

******* 
That  same  evening  Mr.  Bright  happened  to  be  at  Leaf- 
more  station.  He  was  going  to  the  'next  one  down  the 
line  to  see  one  of  the  tenants,  and  he  was  get; ing  into  the 
train  when  he  stopped  and  started  back,  for  Lurd  <  Jaunt 
alighted  from  the  first-class  carriage  next  that  which 
Bright  was  about  to  enter. 

Bright  stared  at  him  speechlessly  as  the  train  slowed 
away  from  the  station. 

"  Lord  Gaunt !  "  he  gasped. 

Gaunt  extended  his  hand   with  a  smile.     He   was   thin 
and  very  brown,  but  he  looked  well  and  extremely  ti;. 
if  the  privations  under  which  he   had  gone   had  not   told 
upon  the  Herculean  strength  which  seemed  the  birthright 
of  his  race. 

<•  Surprised  you,  eh,  Bright  ?  "  said  Gaunt,  as    Bright 
wrung  his  hand. 

"I'd   not    the    least    idea  !"  stammered    Bright,    over-' 
whelmed  with  astonishment  and  delight. 

"I  meant  to  writ,-,"  said  Gaunt,  «  but  I  only  had  time 
to  catch  the  train."* 

'•When  did  yon  come  back  and  are  yon  quite  well*" 
asked  Bright.     "  I'm  so  confused  !  " 

Gaunt  smiled  and  laid  his  hand  upon  Bright's  shoulder. 
"I  reached  London  last  night,  and  I'm  perfectly   well, 
thanks.    You're  looking  very  well,  Bright,  I'm  glad 

"  There's  no  carriage,"  said  Bright,  confusedly.     "  Shall 
I  get  a  By?" 

"  Don't  trouble,"  said  Gaunt.  "  I  want  to  go  to  the  Hall 
to  get  my  old  rifle  and  one  or  two  other  things  :  we'll  walk, 
if  you  don't  mind.  I've  been  cooped  up  in  the  train  and  on 
board  ship  so  long  that  I  shall  be  glad  to  stretch  my 
legs." 
They  left  the  station  and  proceeded  in  the  direction  of 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  235 

Leafmore,  Bright  wiping  his  brow,  and  now  and  again 
looking  from  right  to  left  in  a  bewildered  way. 

«  This  is  such  a  surprise,  Lord  Gaunt,"  he  said.  "  But 
I  needn't  tell  you  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you— how  glad 
they  will  all  be  to  see  you  back  safe  and  sound.  Of  course 
we  have  read  all  about  the  expedition  in  the  papers.  It's 
been  a  wonderful  success !  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it  has,"  said  Gaunt,  quietly.  _  "  We 
have  traced  the  river  to  its  source,  and  connected  it  with 
a  couple  of  lakes  big  enough  to  hold  the  navies  of  the 
world,  and  we  have  opened  up  a  new  channel  for  British 
commerce.  Oh,  yes,  it  has  been  a  success,  I  suppose." 

"  And  now  I  hope  you  have  come  home  to  settle  down, 
Lord  Gaunt,"  said  Bright,  earnestly.  «  You  have  done 
quite  enough  for  your  country,  and  I  trust  you  will  rest 
upon  your  laurels." 

Giuint  smiled  rather  wearily. 

« I've  only  come  back  for  a  few  things,  Bright,"  he  said. 
«  I  return  to  Africa  by  the  next  vessel.  Where  can  I  stay 
to-night?  I  should  like  to  sleep  at  the  Hall,  if  I  can." 

"  Certainly— certainly  !  "  replied  Bright,  «  There  are 
some  servants  there,  and  the  place  is  in  order.  I  thought 
it  possible  that  you  might  come  back  at  any  moment,  and 
I  have  been  prepared ;  but  you  won't  think  of  leaving  us 
again,  Lord  Gaunt  ?  " 

« I  must,"  said  Gaunt.     "  I'm  sorry." 

Bright  sighed.  As  they  reached  the  village,  Gaunt 
looked  round  with  evident  interest. 

«  You  have  completed  all  the  improvements,  Bright,  I 
see,"  he  said.  "  There  are  the  new  schools  and  the  cot- 
tages. They  look  comfortable." 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  said  Bright.  «  Everything  has  been 
done,  I  hope,  as  you  wished  it,  and  I  need  not  say  that  the 
people  are  very  grateful.  The  place  is  quite  changed. 
It  is  a  model  village.  And  we  have  to  thank  you  and  Miss 
Deane  for  it." 

At  the  mention  of  Decima's  name,  Gaunt  winced,  his 
face  grew  grave,  and  he  was  silent  for  the  rest  of  the  way 

Their  appearance  at  the  Hall  created  a  sensation  and  a 
commotion.  Gaunt  spoke  to  some  of  the  old  servants, 
and  with  Bright  went  straight  to  the  library. 

"  Xow,  just  tell  me   all   the   news,   Bright,"  he   said. 


.136  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  Don't  forget  that  I've  only  just  landed,  that  I  am  a 
stranger  in  the  land.  How  is  everybody  ?  How  is — how 
are  the  Deaiies  ?  How  is  Miss  Deane  ?  " 

He  turned  away  to  the  window  as  he  spoke. 

"  They  are  very  well,"  replied  Bright.  "  Bobby  is  at 
Sandhurst  — 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  Gaunt.  "  He  will  make  a  capi- 
tal soldier.  And — Miss  Deane  ?  " 

His  face  was  still  turned  away. 

"  She  is  very  well,"  answered  Bright.  "  I  saw  her  this 
morning.  She  is  still  the  guardian  and  ministering  angel 
of  the  place." 

Gaunt  nodded. 

"And — and — is  still  unmarried?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Bright,  with  a  smile  :  "  but  that's  en-  • 
tirely  her  fault.     She  has  had  two  offers,  to  my  knowledge. 
But  I  don't  think  she  will  remain  single  long." 

Gaunt  sank  into^  a  chair  and  sat  with  downcast  eyes. 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  "  he  asked,  moving  the  books 
011  the  table  mechanically. 

"  I.  think  she  will  be  Lady  Illminster  before  long,"  said 
Bright.  "  His  lordship  has  been  paying  her  a  great  deal 
of  attention  lately,  and  it  is  evident  that  he  is  very  much 
in  love  with  her." 

"  Illminster  ?  "  said  Gaunt,  looking  up  quickly,  and  with 
a  tightening  of  the  lips.  "  Who  is  he  ?  I  forget.  What 
sort  of  a  man  is  he  ?  " 

"  He  came  into  his  title  on  the  death  of  his  uncle 
since  you  left.  He  is  a  very  nice  young  fellow  and  in 
every  way  desirable." 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  Gaunt  in  a  low  voice.  "  And 
you  think  that  Miss  Deane  will  accept  him  't " 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Mr.  Bright. 

Then  he  began  to  talk  about  the  estate.  Gaunt  lis- 
tened, but  absently,  and  presently  he  rose  and  said  : 

"  I  think  I  will  go  and  change,  Bright.  It  will  be  quite 
pleasant  to  get  into  evening  dress.  You  will  dine  with 
me  to-night  ?  " 

Mr.  Bright  accepted.  Gaunt  rose  and  left  the  room, 
and  Mr.  Bright  went  and  interviewed  the  cook.  The  re- 
sult was  a  very  nice  little  dinner,  which  Mr.  Bright 
would  have  enjoyed  if  Lord  Gaunt  had  displayed  any  in- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  237 

terest  in  it ;  but  Gaunt  seemed  to  have  little  or  no  appe- 
tite. He  seemed  disinclined  to  talk,  though  quite  will- 
ing to  listen  to  all  that  Mr.  Bright  had  to  say.  When- 
ever Mr.  Bright  referred  to  the  Deanes,  Gaunt  was  at- 
tention itself,  but  other  subjects  attracted  little  of  his 
attention.  Bright  endeavored  to  draw  Lord  Gaunt  on 
the  subject  of  the  exploration,  but  Gaunt  courteously  re- 
fused to  be  drawn.  He  made  light  of  the  privations  and 
perils  which  the  expedition  had  gone  through,  and  said 
nothing  of  his  own  share  in  the  undertaking.  Any  one 
listening  to  him  would  have  thought  that  the  affair  was 
quite  a  commonplace  business — unworthy  of  notice. 

Bright  at  last  said  "  Good-night." 

"  I  shall  see  you  in  the  morning,  Lord  Gaunt,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Gaunt.  "  But  I  shall  go  by  the  early 
train." 

When  Bright  had  gone,  Gaunt  left  the  room,  and  went 
on  the  terrace  with  a  cigarette.  She  was  going  to  be 
married  to  Lord  Illminster !  And  why  not  ?  lie  hoped 
that  the  young  fellow  was  all  that  Mr.  Bright  had  de- 
scribed him.  He  hoped  that  he  would  be  worthy  of  her. 
Ah,  no !  No  man  could  be  worthy  of  his  girl-love — of 
his  Decima  ! 

Pie  went  clown  the  steps  from  the  terrace,  and  saunt- 
ered through  the  park  into  the  road.  From  there  he 
could  just  see  the  chimneys  of  the  Woodbines. 

She  was  there — asleep,  and  he  was  here.  But  what  a 
wide  gulf  yawned  between  them  ! 

And  she  was  going  to  be  married  !  Ah,  well,  that  was 
quite  right.  It  was  as  it  should  be.  She  was  young  and 
beautiful,  and  this  young  fellow —  Well,  it  was  right 
that  she  should  marry  one  who  was  young  and  well- 
favored.  A  wave  of  bitterness  swept  over  him.  He  tried 
to  crush  down  the  love  of  her  that  rose  in  his  heart.  lie 
would  go  in  the  morning;  he  would  not  see  her.  lie 
would  go  back  to  Africa  to  meet  the  death  which  would 
come  sooner  or  later — sooner,  he  hoped. 

As  he  turned  away  toward  the  hall  he  saw  a  sharp 
light  spring  into  the  sky.  It  seemed  to  come  from  the 
spot  at  which  he  had  been  gazing,  from  the  Woodbines. 

He  stopped  and  looked  earnestly  in  the  direction  of  the 
light.  It  grew  and  expanded,  and  there  was  the  sound 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

of  an  explosion.     He  ran  up  the  hill,  and  looked  earnestly, 
anxiously,  in  the  direction  of  the  flames,  for  there  were 
flames  now  and  the  sky  was  red  above  the  spot  from 
Avhich  they  sprang. 
It  was  a  fire — arid  at  the  Woodbines  !  IK-  set  off  running. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

GAUXT  ran  across  the  lawn,  and  climbing  the  park 
fen  re,  got  into  the  road.  As  he  went  he  was  hoping  that 
it  might  not  be  the  Woodbines,  but  a  hayrack  or  rick 
near  it,  but  when  he  had  gone  another  hundred  yards  or 
so,  he  saw  that  it  was  the  Deanes'  house  that  was  on  fire. 

Several  other  persons  were  running  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, and  by  the  time  he  had  gained  the  front  gate  a 
crowd  had  collected,  and  was  shouting  and  rushing  about 
excitedly. 

(Taunt  pushed  his  way  through  and  caught  a  man,  the 
nearest  to  him,  by  the  arm. 

"  Are  they  all  out — safe  ?  "  he  asked. 

Before  the  man  could  reply,  Mr.  Bright  came  run- 
ning down  the  path  from  the  burning  ho'i 

••  Is  that  you,  Lord  Gaunt?"  he  panted,  then  turned 
and  addressed  the  crowd.  "  Some  of  you  run  down  to 
the  farm  and  bring  up  a  ladder — the  longest  you  can 
find ;  bring  two,  and  some  rope.  Has  any  one  gone  for 
the  engine  ?  " 

"  Yes — yes,  sir  !  "  replied  a  voice. 

"  Are  they  all  out,  Bright  ?  "  demanded  Gaunt. 

lie  spoke  quietly  and  calmly  enough,  but  he  looked 
from  Bright  to  the  house  with  a  terrible  anxiety. 

'•  1 — I  don't  know!  I  have  only  just  arrived,"  replied 
Bright.  "I  saw  you  get  over  the  fence.  The  servants 
are  out  and  safe.  I  saw  them  just  now — there  they  are, 
and  Mr.  Deane — he  was  here  just  now." 

'•  And  Decima — Miss  Deane?  "  said  Gaunt  impatiently. 

Mr.   Bright  shook  his  head. 

"  I  haven't  seen  her  !  Has  any  one  seen  Miss  Deane  ?'' 
he  shouted. 

There  \vas  a  silence  as  the  crowd  looked  from  one  to 
the  other ;  then  the  cook  pushed  her  way  up  to  Bright, 
wringing  her  hands  and  crying. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  239 

"  Oh,  where  is  the  young  mistress — where  is  Miss 
Decima?"  sbe  wailed.  "I  can't  find  her!  We — we 
thought  she  had  come  out  with  us ;  but  I  can't  find  her 
in  the  crowd." 

Gaunt  took  her  by  the  shoulder. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  Tell  me — which 
room  ?  " 

The  girl  stopped  wailing  and  crying  for  a  moment. 

"  The  back  room — at  the  top,  my  lord.  Miss  Decima 
is  sleeping  there  for  a  night  or  two ;  her  own.  room  is 
being  done  up." 

"  Show  me  !  "  said  Gaunt,  quickly.  She  ran  round  to  the 
back  of  the  house  and  pointed  to  a  window  of  the  top  room. 

"  That's  it,  my  lord  !     Oh  my  poor  young  mistress  !  " 

The  night  had  grown,  dark  and  a  slight  drizzle  had 
commenced.  The  fire  had  not  reached  the  back  of  the 
house  as  yet,  though  it  was  spreading  rapidly,  and  he 
could  not  see  anything  at  the  window.  He  noticed  that 
there  were  iron  bars  to  it ;  the  room  had  been  used  as  a 
nursery  by  a  former  tenant. 

Gaunt  shouted  "  Decima  !  "  but  no  answer  came,  and 
he  ran  round  to  the  front  again.  The  house  was  an  old 
one,  and  having  been  built  when  timber  was  cheap  and 
jerry  building  unknown,  there  was  plenty  of  wood  in  it. 
The  flames  had  caught  at  the  thick  beams  and  quarterings, 
and  the  whole  front  of  the  house  was  a  sheet  of  flame. 

One  of  the  men  had  brought  an  axe  and  had  broken  in 
the  front  door,  and  the  draught  was  driving  the  fire  up 
the  staircase  and  through  the  lower  rooms  fiercely. 

But  Gaunt  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  Decima  might 
have  escaped  and  be  safe  somewhere  in  the  crowd,  but  he 
would  not  leave  it  to  chance.  He  meant  going  into  the 
house.  Putting  his  arm  up  before  his  eyes  he  ran  to- 
ward the  door. 

Bright  saw  him,  and  sprang  forward. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  my  lord  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  You 
can't  go  inside — it's  impossible ! " 

"Have  you  found  Miss  Deane?"  asked  Gaunt,  over 
his  shoulder. 

"  Xo !  "  said  Bright.  "  But  you  can't  go  in — it's  certain 
death ! " 

Gaunt  broke   from  him,  and  ran  into  the  house.     A 


240  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

volume  of  flame  and  smoke  surrounded  him  and  shut 
him  from  Bright's  sight.  The  crowd  roared  with  excite- 
ment and  yelled,  "  Come  back !  Come  back  ! "  and 
some  of  the  women  screamed.  Gaunt  with  his  face 
covered  by  his  arm,  blundered  to  the  bottom  of  the  stair- 
case and  looked  up.  The  flames  had  traveled  through 
the  first  floor  and  were  licking  round  the  balustrade 
the  landing;  the  smoke  was  so  thick  that  he  could  see 
nothing  but  the  flames. 

"  Decima  !  "  he  called,  "  Decima  ! '' 

There  was  no  answer,  and  half  blinded  and  suffocated, 
he  was  about  to  rush  up  the  stairs  when  they  fell  away 
from  the  landing  with  a  dull  crash. 

The  smoke  and  dust  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to 
see  anything  for  a  moment  and  well-nigh  stifled  him,  but 
presently  he  thought  he  heard  a  voice  above  the  roar  of 
the  fire,  and  the  crackling  of  the  woodwork,  and  opening 
his  eyes  he  saw  a  white  figure  standing  on  the  landing 
above  him. 

"  My  God  !  "  he  said,  under  his  breath,  and  for  a  second 
he  was  paralyzed  by  fear — for  the  first  time  in  his  life  ! 
It  was  only  for  a  second,  the  next  he  was  himself  again. 

"  Decima  ! "  he  cried  to  her,  "  Decima,  can  you  see — 
hear  me  ?  " 

A  tongue  of  flame  shot  up  between  them,  and  they 
could  see  each  other  plainly.  He  saw  her  start  and  hold 
out  her  arms  to  him,  heard'  her  cry  upon  his  name,  and 
he  held  out  his  arms  to  her,  intending  to  tell  her  to  jump. 
He  checked  the  command  that  sprang  to  his  lips.  In  the 
uncertain  light,  in  her  terror,  she  might  miss  him  or  jump 
short,  and  if  she  did  so  she  would  inevitably  injure  herself. 

"  Decima,  can  you  hear  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes  ! ''  she  cried  back  to  him,  and  her  voice, 
though  quick  and  trembling,  was  free  from  the  frenzy  of 
terror.  "  Go  back  !  Oh,  go,  go !  You  cannot  save  in;.- ! "' 

He  laughed  fiercely. 

"Can  I  not.?  I  can,  and  I  will,  save  you!  Do  not  be 
afraid.  Go  back.  Look  !  Are  the  stairs  above  you  safe  yet  ?  " 

She  glanced  upward.  "  Yes  ;  I — I  think  so !  Oh,  yes. 
Pray,  pray,  go  !  The  fire  is  all  round  you  !  I  can  see  it !  " 

"Go  up  to  the  top  room — the  one  at  the  back!"  he 
shouted.  "  Let  me  see  you  go  !  Quick  ! '' 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  241 

She  paused  a  moment,  and  looked  down  at  him. 
Surely,  it  was  not  terror  on  the  white  face  which  the 
flames  lit  up  so  plainly,  not  terror  alone,  but  an  inde- 
finable tenderness  and  joy  ! 

"  Go  I "  he  repeated,  almost  sternly.  "  There  is  not  a 
moment  to  lose  !  I  will  save  you !  Go  to  the  window, 
but  do  not  break  it — the  draught " 

She  understood,  and  with  another  glance  at  him  sprang 
up  the  top  stairs. 

Gaunt  turned  and  fought  his  way  through  the  flames 
and  smoke  into  the  open  air.  Half  a  dozen  men  seized 
him  and  dragged  him  away  from  the  house,  and  beat  out 
the  sparks  and  spots  of  fire  which  smouldered  in  his 
clothes.  His  face  was  black,  his  hair  scorched,  and  he 
was  almost  blinded  by  the  smoke. 

-  All  right ! "  he  said,  shaking  himself  free  from  the 
anxious,  kindly  hands.  "  She  is  safe — as  yet.  The 
ladder?" 

"  It's  here  ! "'  cried  Bright.     "  Are  you  hurt  ?  " 

"  No !  no  !  Take  it  round  to  the  back — the  window 
with  the  bars!  Quick!  "  said  Gaunt. 

He  was  cool  and  self-possessed,  but  his  lips  trembled. 

They  tore  round  to  the  back  with  the  ladder,  and  set 
it  up  against  the  house,  but  the  ladder  would  not  caiite 
reach  the  window. 

Gaunt  looked  up.  Some  ivy  was  growing  against  the 
side,  and  he  thought  he  could  manage  to  reach  the 
window. 

He  sprang  to  the  ladder,  but  Bright  and  some  of  the 
other  men  grabbed  at  him. 

"  Xo,  no,  you  can't  do  that,  my  lord  !  Wait,  for  God's 
sake,  wait  until  we've  tied  the  smaller  ladder  on  to  this 
one ! " 

"  You  can  do  that  when  I'm  up!  "  said  Gaunt,  quietly. 
"  I  can  reach  the  window  by  the  ivy.  Let  me  go,  please  ! " 

He  pushed  Bright  aside  and  tore  off  his  coat,  with  his 
foot  on  the  ladder.  Then  he  ran  up.  They  held  the 
ladder  firmly,  and  gazed  up  at  him  with  white,  scared 
faces.  When  he  had  gained  the  top  rung,  he  twisted  his 
hands  in  the  ivy  as  high  above  his  head  as  possible,  and 
drew  himself  up.  For  a  moment  or  two  he  hung  by  this 
frail  support,  and  the  crowd,  as  they  stared  up  at  him, 


:M-2  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

gave  a  kind  of  sob  and  gasp.     Then  they  saw  him  loosen 
one  hand  and  reach  for  the  window  sill. 

"  He'll  never  do  it !  "  exclaimed  a  voice  below.     "  He'll 
fall — drop  like  a  stone!     Some   one  get  some  blai 
something  to  catch  him  ! " 

But  Gaunt's  strength  was  Herculean,  and  it  was  backed 
by  that  cool  courage  which  has  made  the  Englishman 
muster  of  half  of  the  world.  He  raised  himself  inch  by 
inch,  got  a  grip  with  his  other  hand,  and  presently  bad 
one  knee  on  the  window  sill.  The  crowd  sent  up  a 
wild  cheer ;  but  there  was  terror  and  apprehension  in  it 
as  well  as  admiration. 

Fortunately  the  sill  was  one  of  the  wide,  old-fashioned 
ones,  and  Gaunt  found  it  possible  to  kneel  on  it.  As  he 
did  so,  he  saw  Decima.  There  was  only  the  gla- 
tween  their  two  faces;  hers  white  and  strained  with 
terror — for  him,  not  for  herself — his  black  and  gaimed 
with  smoke. 

He  smiled  at  her  encouragingly,  and  spoke  her  name. 
Then  he  gripped  one  of  the  bars,  and  tore  it  away,  and 
with  a  cry  of  warning  to  those  below,  flung  it  down. 
The  second  bar  came  away  as  easily,  but  the  last  held 
fast.  It  had  been  nailed  with  clamp  nails,  and  iv- 
all  his  efforts  for  a  time ;  and  he  could  not  put  forth  all 
his  strength  for  fear  of  losing  his  balance  and  falling. 
Every  moment  was  precious. 

He  saw  a  gleam  of  light  behind  Decima,  and  knew 
that  it  was  -the  flames  which  had  reached  the  top  story, 
and  would  take  hold  of  the  room  itself  presently.  Cling- 
ing to  the  side  of  the  window,  he  exerted  all  the  fo: 
dared,  and  the  bar  came  away  suddenly,  so  suddenly,  that 
he  staggered  and  swayed ;  and  the  spectators  beneath 
groaned  and  shouted  warningly. 

'•  Open  the  window  now  !"  he  said  to  Decima. 

With  trembling  hands  she  obeyed,  and  the  next  instant 
he  was  in  the  room,  and  she  was  in  his  arms.     For  a 
space  she  hid  her  face  on  his  breast,  and  a  convulsh 
shook  her ;  then,  with  her  hands  clinging  to  his  shoulders, 
she  looked  up  at  him. 

"  You  will  be  killed !  Oh,  why  have  you  done  it- 
risked " 

His  eyes  met  hers  calmly,  with  even  a  smile,  but  he  did 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  243 

not  kiss  her,  though  he  held  her  tightly  for  this  second 
or  two. 

••  We  shall  be  all  right,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  Don't  be 
afraid ;  do  just  as  I  tell  you  !  " 

"  I  am  not  afraid  with  you— I  am  not  afraid  now !  " 
she  panted.  "Is  it  really  you?  Or  am  I  dead  and — 
and  ?  " 

She  gazed  up  at  him  with  wide-open  eyes,  and  her 
hands  touched  him,  pressed  upon  his  shoulders,  as  if  she 
wished  to  assure  herself  of  the  reality  of  his  presence. 

"  You  are  not  dead — and  not  going  to  die,  please  God  !  " 
lie  said,  quietly.  "  Now,  you  will  do  as  I  tell  you.  Come 
to  the  window — don't  look  down.  Stand  there,  with  your 
face  toward  me  !  " 

She  obeyed.  He  sprang  to  the  bed,  and  tearing  off  the 
clothes,  tied  the  sheets  and  counterpane  together  into  a 
rope.  The  end  of  this  he  passed  under  her  arms,  and 
knotted  securely. 

"  Oh,  what — what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  she  breathed. 

He  smiled. 

"  Let  you  down — into  safety,"  he  said. 

"  Get  up  on  to  the-  window."  He  lifted  her  on  to  the 
sill.  "Now  kneel  down.  Good!  Hold  my  arm.  Now 
shut  your  eyes  and  do  not  open  them  until  you  are  safe 
on  the  ground  beneath."  . 

He  leaned  forward  from  the  window  to  tell  those  below 
what  lie  was  about  to  do ;  but  there  was  no  need :  Mr. 
Bright  had  guessed  at  it,  and  he  and  another,  a  strong 
young  fellow,  were  already  on  the  ladder,  waiting  to 
receive  her. 

"  Now,  let  go  your  hands,"  said  Gaunt  in  Decima's  ear. 
"Don't  open  your  eyes,  and  do  not  cling  to  anything. 
Just  let  yourself  go.  Can  you  do  it  ?  Ah,  but  you  can  ! 
You  will  be  brave  !  " 

"  I  will  do  anything,  everything  you  tell  me !  "  she 
panted.  "But  you?" 

"  Xever  mind  me.  I  am  all  right,"  he  said,  impatiently. 
"  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him ;  the  look  which 
a  woman  gives  the  man  she  loves,  the  man  who  is  coolly 
and  calmly  risking  his  life  to  save  hers ;  the  look  no  pen, 
however  graphic  and  eloquent,  can  hope  to  describe ;  then 


244  HER  HEARTS  DESIRE. 

she  closed  her  eyes  again,  and  gradually  loosening  her 
hold,  folded  her  arms  across  her  breast. 

Gaunt  lowered  her  slowly  and  gently.  Her  slight 
figure  swayed  to  and  fro,  but  he  set  his  feet  against  the 
wall  and  steadied  the  linen  rope,  and  so  lowered  her 
gently  until  she  was  grasped  by  the  eager  hands  out- 
stretched for  her. 

A  wild,  enthusiastic  cheer  rose  hoarsely  from  a  hun- 
dred throats,  the  women  shrieked  with  relief  and  joy; 
and  Gaunt,  as  he  saw  her  surrounded  and  darted  at  by 
the  crowd,  smiled  and  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  and 
gratitude. 

She  was  safe ! 

"  Come  down  !  Come  down ! "  rose  the  shout  from 
«very  voice.  "  Quick  !  The  fiiv  !— 

He  put  his  knee  on  the  sill  and  looked  over.  As  he  did 
so,  a  tongue  of  flame  shot  out  from  a  window  beneath  him. 
The  fire  had  reached  the  back  of  the  house.  Decima  had 
been  only  just  in  time.  She  was  safe,  and  the  thought, 
the  joy  of  it,  filled  Gaunt  with  a  kind  of  exhilaration.  He 
had  conducted  and  carried  through  many  a  forlorn  hope, 
but  no  success  had  ever  given  him  such  satisfaction  as  this. 

"  Come  down  !  "  shouted  the  crowd,  and  one  man  in  his 
excitement  screamed  out  an  oath. 

Gaunt  stepped  on  to  the  sill,  and  was  about  to  lower 
himself,  but  the  flames  beneath  him  curled  round  the  lad- 
der, and  he  saw  that  it  had  caught  fire.  He  hesitated: 
the  crowd  groaned  and  yelled.  He  saw  Decima— her 
figure  in  its  white  dressing-robe,  lit  up  by  the  flames — 
hreak  from  a  group  of  women  and  spring  to  the  foot  of 
the  ladder.  She  stood  with  her  face  and  arms  uplifted  to 
him,  and  he  could  almost  fancy  that  he  saw  her  lips  move. 
He  heard  the  burning  ladder  crackle,  and  hiss  as  the 
fiames  licked  it.  Then  he  did  the  only  foolish  thing  he 
had  done.  He  left  the  window  and  ran  to  the  door  of  the 
room.  But  the  fire  had  obtained  a  firm  hold  of  the  upper 
landing  and  no  one  could  hope  to  pass  through  it  and  live. 
He  returned  to  the  window  and  without  any  further  hesi- 
tation lowered  himself  by  the  ivy  to  the  ladder  and  began 
to  descend.  But  the  few  seconds — they  were  scarcely 
more  than  five — had  permitted  the  flames  to  eat  through 
the  ladder,  and  his  weight  broke  it  off  at  the  burned  part. 


- 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  245- 

He  fell,  clutching  the  sides  of  the  ladder,  but  his  weight 
was  too  great  for  the  strain,  and  he  came  down  to  the 
ground,  with  a  dull,  heavy  thud,  which  smote  every  soul 
with  horror  and  pity. 

He  was  conscious  for  a  moment  and  in  that  space  of 
time  he  knew  that  a  white-robed  figure  was  kneeling  be- 
side him,  that  its  hands  were  holding  him  to  its  bosom,, 
then  all  became  a  blank. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

A  WEEK  later  Gaunt  was  lying  on  his  bed,  in  his  room 
at  the  Hall. 

It  was  the  room  in  which  his  father,  his  grandfather — 
and  how  many  generations  of  Gaunts  ! — had  been  born, 
and  had  died.  It  Avas  a  bright,  sunny  day,  but  the  blinds 
were  drawn  and  the  nurse  and  doctor  spoke  in  whispers 
as  they  stood  by  the  bed  and  looked  at  the  scorched  and 
maimed  figure  lying  so  still  and  helplessly  on  it. 

Gaunt  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  from  one  to  the 
other.  Pie  was  very  thin  and  felt  as  weak  as  a  baby.  He 
tried  to  move  his  arm,  but  with  a  dull  kind  of  surprise 
found  that  he  could  not  do  it.  Both  arms  were  bound  in 
splints  and  wadding ;  he  was  swathed,  so  to  speak,  in 
cotton  wool,  and  felt  and  looked  like  a  mummy. 

Across  his  -  chest,  and  about  his  arms  was  a  stinging, 
aching  pain  which  puzzled  him.  For  a  moment  he  thought 
he  was  in  Africa  and  wounded  by  an  assegai,  and  as  he 
looked  at  the  doctor  he  said,  in  the  thin  tones  of  extreme 
weakness — and  yet  with  a  smile  : 

"  What's  happened  ?     Have  they  beaten  us  ?  " 

The  doctor  didn't  understand,  but  he  laid  a  soothing- 
hand  on  the  hot  brow. 

"  Better,  I  hope,  my  lord !  "  he  said. 

Gaunt  tried  to  nod,  but  his  head  was  as  heavy  as  lead, 
and  he  felt  as  if  even  his  tongue  were  burned  with  the 
rest  of  him. 

"  Have  I  been  ill !     Where  am  I  ?    Ah,   yes  !     Is  — is- , 
she  safe  ?  " 

The  nurse — she  was  a  woman  of  the  village,  who  had 
been  through  one  of  the  London  hospitals,  and  happening- 


:M!>  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

home  for  a  holiday,  had  begged  to  be  permitted  to 
nurse  him — the  nurse  understood. 

"  Yes,  my  lord/'  she  said.  "Miss  Deane  is  all  right. 
Quite  right  ! " 

Gaunt  tried  to  nod.  "Thank  God  !  "  he  murmured  to 
himself.  "  Have  I  been  ill  long  V  "  he  asked. 

"It's  a  week  since  the  tire,"  said  the  doctor.  '-You 
have  not  been  quite  conscious  since  then." 

Gaunt  tried  to  glance  at  his  swollen  and  impri- 
arms. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  me?" 

The  doctor  knew  his  man  and  did  not  evade  the  question. 

"One  arm  broken,"  he  said,  cheerfully,  '-and  the  > 
burned,  in  fact,    you   were    scorched  and  burned  pretty 
liberally." 

'•  The  fire  ?     Ah,  yes — I  remember  !  "  >;iid  Gaunt.     ••  It 

•  bad   fire.     Any   liv<  Deane — i 

hurt,  ill  ?  " 

••  Miss  Deane  is  all  right,  thanks  to  you,*'  said  the  doc- 
tor, with  a  slight  catch  in  1  :  there  were  no 
lives  lost.     Mr.    Deane    nearly   came   to   grief.     II 
anxious  to  rescue  some  invention,  some  model  or 
and  ran  into  the  house  after  it ;  but  the  men  dragged  him 
out  and  he  was  not  burned." 

Gaunt  nodded. 

"  I'm  glad.     I  low — how  did  it  occur 

The  doctor  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Something  caught  fire  and  exploded.  Some  prepara- 
tion of  Mr.  Deane's,  I  believe,"  ironically,  "  that  it  was  the 
compound  which  he  was  inventing  for  the  extinction  of 
lire.'1 

Gaunt  smiled. 

'•  And  they're  all  safe?     The  servants  and  al! 

"  Yes ;  quite  safe.  You  are  the  only  one  who  has 
suffered." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Gaunt,  with  quiet  satisfaction. 
"  I  fell  from  the  ladder,  I  suppose  ?  I  remember  now. 
I'm  rather  thirsty." 

The  nurse  gave  him  some  water. 

•"Thanks.     The   house — the  Woodbines— must   be  re- 
built.    I  should  like  it  to  be   rebuilt   as   soon  a 
and  as  much  like  the  old  one " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  247 

"  Plenty  of  time  for  that,  my  lord,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  We  must  not  let  you  worry  yourself  about  that  or  any- 
thing else  at  present.  Are  you  in  any  pain  ?  " 

"  Nothing  to  speak  of,"  said  Gaunt,  though  the  aching 
of  the  burned  muscles  made  him  catch  his  breath  even  as 
he  spoke.  "  I  suppose  I  shall  pull  through  ?  "  he  asked, 
quietly. 

The  doctor  smiled,  but  it  was  an  uncertain  and  pain- 
fully professional  smile. 

"  I  hope  so,  my  lord,"  he  said. 

Gaunt  looked  at  him  calmly  but  searchingly. 

"  There's  a  doubt,  eh  V  "  he  said.  "  Well,  I  am  sure  you 
will  do  your  best,  doctor." 

He  was  silent  for  a  minute  or  so ;  then  he  said,  with  an 
affectation  of  indifference : 

"  I've  been  unconscious,  haven't  I  ?  " 

"  This  is  the  first  time  you  have  been  really  conscious," 
said  the  doctor. 

"  Yes  ?  I — I  fancied — you  know  one  fancies  things 
when  one  is  off  one's  head  ? — that  there  was  some  one  else 
here  besides  you  two.  Thank  you,  nurse,  that's  more  com- 
fortable ! " 

The  nurse  had  raised  the  pillows  slightly.  The  nurse 
and  the  doctor  exchanged  glances,  and  it  was  she  who 
answered. 

"  It  wasn't  fancy  only,  my  lord.  Miss  Deane  has  been 
to  see  you ;  in  fact —  '  She  hesitated,  but  Gaunt's  eyes 
were  fixed  on  her  and  she  went  on.  "  Well,  she  did  say 
that  we  were  not  to  tell  you,  my  lord,  but  Miss  Deane  has 
been  here  all  the  time,  helping  to  nurse  you." 

A  slight  flush  rose  to  the  white  face. 

"  I  thought  so,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  Any  one  else  been 
here  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Bright  and  Mr.  Robert,  Miss  Deane's  brother," 
said  the  nurse.  "  He  came  down  from  Sandhurst.  He's 
down-stairs  now." 

"  Is  he  ?  "  said  Gaunt.     "  I  should  like  to  see  him ! " 
,    "  Xot  just  at  present.     Later  in  the  day,  after  you  have 
had  some  sleep,"  said  the  doctor,  decisively. 

Gaunt  nodded  and  closed  his  eyes. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said ;  "  I'm  under  orders,  and  must 
obey." 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

He  slept  or  seemed  to  sleep  for  about  an  hour,  then  lie 
opened  his  eyes. 

••  Ask  Mr.  Robert  to  come  up,"  he  said  to  the  nurse,  and 
Bobby  entered  the  room. 

"  Ah,  Bobby,  how  are  you  ?  "  said  Gaunt.  '•  S,  >rry  I  can't 
.shake  hands  !  How  is  your  sistc. 

Bobby  bent  over  the  white  wasted  face,  with  its 
scorched  hair  and  too  brilliant  eyes. 

"  Decimals  all  right,"  he  said.  "  She— she's  down-stairs." 

There  was  a  suspicious  moisture  in  Hobby's  bright 

"I— she— I  want  to  thank  you,  Lord  Gaunt !  "  he  stam- 
mered, but  Gaunt  cut  him  short. 

"That's  all  right,  Bobby  !  All's  well  that  ends  well. 
She's  safe — and  not  hurt,  they  tell  me.  And  that's  the 
principal  thing.  We'll  build' up  the  house  again."  A 
.spasm  of  agony  silenced  him  for  a  moment,  but  still  he 
smiled.  "  And— and— we  must  persuade  your  father  to 
drop  the  fire-extinguishing  business.  And  how  do  you 
like  Sandhurst  ?  Tell  me  all  about  it," 

But  Bobby  could  not  talk  of  himself  or  Sandhurst. 

"  You  saved  her  life  !  "  he  said,  brokenly. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Gaunt,  with  a  quiet  smile. 
*'  Wouldn't  you  have  done  the  same  ?  Very  well,  then  ! 
How  well  you  are  looking  !  Nice  place,  Sandhurst !  We 
shall  see  you  a  colonel,  commanding  one  of  her  majesty's 
regiments  presently,  Bobby!"  His  voice  broke,  for  an- 
other spasm  of  pain  had  caught  hold  of  him.  "  I — I 
want  to  send  a  message  to  your  sister.  Tell  her — Are 
you  listening?  I  want  you  to  remember  the  exact  words, 
please  !  Tell  her  that  I'm  not  in  the  least  pain !  Don't 
forget ! " 

Bobby  nodded,  and  went  away ;  he  could  not  have 
spoken  to  save  his  life. 

The  doctor  came  up  to  the  bedside,  and  Gaunt  smiled 
up  at  him. 

'•  Am  I  going  to  die,  doctor  ?  "  he  asked,  coolly.    "  Th 
a  funny  feeling  about  my  heart." 

The  doctor  grew  grave,  and  bent  his  ear  to  (Taunt's 
breast. 

It's  the   shock,"   he   said   under  his   breath.     "You 
very  badly  burned,  Lord  Gaunt." 

"  I  know,"  said  Gaunt.     "  I — asked  you  because  if  you 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  249 

think  there's  a  chance  of  joining  the  majority,  I— I— well, 
J  should  like  to  see  Miss  Deane." 

The  doctor  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  he  said : 

"I  will  tell  her,  my  lord." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Gaunt,  cheerfully. 

He  lay  quite  still  after  the  doctor  had  left  the  room, 
and  the  nurse,  watching  him,  thought  he  had  gone  to 
sleep,  but  when  the  door  opened  Gaunt  opened  his  eyes 
and  a  faint  flush  rose  to  his  white  face,  for  Decima  had 
entered  with  the  doctor.  As  she  came  to  the  side  of  the 
bed  Gaunt  said : 

"  Will  you  two  clear  out  for  a  few  minutes  ?  " 

They  went  out,  and  Decima  was  alone  with  him. 

She  knelt  beside  the  bed  and  looked  at  him.  The  light 
was  waning,  and  he  could  not  see  the  expression  on  her 
face,  in  her  eyes ;  but  her  sweet  presence  thrilled  through 
him. 

"  I — I  wanted  to  see  you,  to  thank  you  !  "  he  said,  in  a 
low  voice. 

She  raised  her  eyes. 

"  To — to  thank  me — me  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  in  a  thin  voice,  which  for  all  its  feeble- 
ness had  nothing  morbid  in  it.  "  They  have  told  me  that 
you  have  helped  to  nurse  me.  That  is  so,  isn't  it  ?  It 
was  like  you,  Decima.  You  see  I  call  you — Decima  ! 
You — you  will  not  be  offended — angry  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  in  speechless  sorrow  and  anguish. 

"  I — I  wanted  to  see  you,  to  bid  you — well,  to  wish 
you  « Good-by.'  I'm  afraid  our  friend,  the  doctor,  doesn't 
think  any  great  things  of  me." 

She  hid  her  face  in  the  coverlet  for  a  moment,  but 
raised  it  again  and  looked  at  him. 

"  And  I  wanted  to  ask  you — to  hear — Decima,  do  you 
think  you  can — that  you  can  forgive  me  ?  " 

She  fought  for  calmness — prayed  for  it.  She  had  been 
warned  that  she  must  not  excite  him. 

"  Forgive !  You  ask  me  that !  You — who — have  saved 
my  life !  Who  may  be  dying  ?  " 

"  That's  nothing  "  he  said,  quietly.  "  Any  fireman  at 
thirty  shillings  a  wreek,  would  have  done  all  I  did,  and 
less  clumsily.  That's — that's  nonsense."  The  pain 
caught  hold  of  him  and  silenced  him  for-  a  moment,  then 


250  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

lie  went  on.     "I— I  meant  for  what — what  I  said  to  you 
that  night— for  what  I  asked  you  to  do,  Decima  !  " 

u  Yes  ;  I — I  forgive  !  "  she  said. 

"  Thank  you,  dearest !  You  see,  I  take  advantage  of 
my  situation!  But— all,  Decima,  you  are  'dearest'  to 
me.  I  love— but  I  didn't  mean  to  speak  of  that.  Decima, 
I  have  hrard  of  your  engagement." 

She  started  slightly,  but  said  nothing. 

"  I've  heard  of  young  Illminstcr.  I  knew  his  uncle.  A 
good  sort.  I— hope  he'll  make  you  a  good  husband, 
Decima  !  He's— lie's  a  lucky  young  fellow  !  I— I  should 
like  to  see  him  ;  but  I  don't  suppose  they'd  let  me.  As 
if  it  mattered  !  And— and— Decima,  I've  made  a  little 
will."  He  smiled.  «  Don't  be  afraid.  I've  not  left  you 
anything  worth  speaking  of.  I  know  you'd  only  refuse  it. 
No  ;  only  a  trifle.  Some  pearls  and  things.  You'll  wear 
the  diamonds  on  your  wedding  day.  Promise,  Decima  !  " 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment;  then  she  said,  almost  in- 
audibly : 

"  I  promise." 

"  Thanks  !  They— they  were  my  mother's.  This— this 
is  rather  a  mournful  business,  and— and  it  may  be  absurd 
and  grotesque,  too,  for  I  may  pull  through,  after  all, 
though  I  fancy  not,  for  the  doctor  smiled,  and  when  they 
smile— I've  just  seen  Bobby.  I've  left  him  my  guns  and 
some  other  things.  How  dark  it  is  getting,  Decima  !  I 
ran  say  this  now,  because— well,  because  you  are  going  to 
marry  young  Illminster,  and  be  happy.  Yes,  be  happy, 
dearest!  That  has  always  been  my  wish;  just  that  you 
should  be  happy !  God  knows  I  have  not  helped  you  to 
happiness  !  .My  love  hitherto  has  only  made  you  wretched. 
<  :od  forgive  me  !  But  how  I  have  loved  you  ! " 

He  drew  a  long  breath  and  looked  at  her  as  if  he  were 
trying  to  impress  her  every  feature  upon  his  memory  that 
he  might  carry  it  with  him— wherever  he  was  going. 

"How  I  have  loved  you  !  Life  is  short— let  one  ! 
happy  as  one  may— life  is  short.  Soon— and  yet  not  for  a 
long  time,  I  hope,  dearest— you  will  cross  the  river  that 
divides  !ife  from  death,  and  we  shall  meet.  We  shall  meet 
with  hearts  bare  to  each  other's  gaze,  and  there 
you  will  know  how  I  have  loved  you!  " 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  251 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  brave  smile,  but  Decima  could 
not  see  it  for  tears. 

She  bent  over  him. 

"  You — you  are  wrong  !  "  she  breathed,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  she  said.  "  Lord  Illminster — he — I — I  am  not 
going  to  marry  him.  I  am — not  going  to  marry  any 
one " 

She  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes  hastily,  for  they 
obscured  her  sight,  and  his  face  was  precious  to  her  ! 

u  Xot  going  to  marry  !  Why  not  ?  "  he  asked,  in  his 
thin  voice.  "  Xot  marry  Illminster  ?  They  told  me — 
why  not  ?  " 

"  Because — because  " — Her  voice  broke  and  her  head 
bent  lower  ;  "  because  I  do  not  love  him.  I — I  love  some 
one  else." 

Her  head  sank  until  her  face  was  hidden  upon  his  arm. 

His  eyes  grew  wider  and  he  frowned. 

"  Who  is  this  some  one  else,  Decima  ?  "  he  said,  slowly, 
for  his  pain  had  gotten  hold  upon  him  again. 

"  Can't — can't — you  tell  ?  "  she  whispered.  "  Oh,  my 
dearest" — She  cast  aside  her  trembling  shyness,  and  bent 
over  him,  love  pouring  from  her  eyes,  vibrating  in  her 
voice.  "  Oh,  don't  you  know  ?  Did  you  think  that  I 
should  cease  to  love  you  ?  Did  you  think  that  I  should 
change — alter  V  You  know  that  I  loved  you  ;  do  you 
think  that  I  should  not  love  you  now — now  that  you  have 
risked  your  life  for  me  ?  " 

"  Decima  !  "  he  breathed,  wondering,  scarcely  daring  to 
think  that  he  was  awake  and  not  dreaming. 

"  Yes,  I  love  you,"  she  breathed.  "  I  have  loved  you 
all  through — it  was  wicked,  I  know,  but  I  cannot  help  it ! 
There  is  no  one  else  !  There  could  not  be !  You  must 
not  die  !  Ah,  you  must  not  or  I  must  die,  too !  I  could 
not  live  without  you,  dearest !  I  could  not,  because  I 
love  you  better  than  life  itself." 

A  light  shone  in  Gaunt 's  eyes  ;  his  lips  trembled.  He 
tried  to  move ;  but  he  could  not :  he  was  bound  and 
swathed  too  scientifically,  securely. 

"  I  can't  move  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  can't  put  my  arm 
round  you !  Oh,  my  love — my  love  !  " 

Blushing  over  face  and  neck,  she  put  her  arms  round 
him  and  pressed  him  to  her  bosom,  and  bent  lower  and 


L'.-)ii  HEP,  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

lower,  until  her  lips  touched  his,  and  when  they  had  thus 
touched,  they  clung  with  a  kiss  in  which  even  her  great 
love  found  expression. 

##  #*#*=:-= 

Her  arms  were  still  round  him  when  the  doctor  came 
into  the  room,  and  she  looked  round  with  a  strange  look 
in  her  lovely  eyes.  It  was  the  look  which  the  lion 
wears  when  she  is  protecting  her  cub,  the  mother  when 
she  holds  her  best-loved  against  her  bosom  and  so  dares 
death  itself!" 

The  doctor  looked  at  her  and  then  at  Gaunt. 

"  Has  he  fainted  ?"  he  asked,  in  a  grave  whisper. 

Decima  held  the  dear  head  still  closer — yet,  how  gently  I 
— to  her  bosom. 

••  YOU — you  had  better  go,  my  dear  young  lady,"  said 
the  doctor,  gravely. 

But  Gaunt  opened  his  eyes. 

"Let  her  stay,  doctor  !"  he  said,  with  a  smile.  "I'm 
not  going  to  die.  Men  don't  die  when  they  have  so  much 
to  live  for,  and  I — well,  I'm  going  to  live  ! '' 

And  he  did.  Much  to  the  surprise  of  the  doctors,  Gaunt 
"  turned  the  corner  "  that  day,  soon  became  convalescent, 
and  regained  his  health  and  all  his  old  strength  with 
remarkable  rapidity. 

As  Lady  Roborough  remarked  : 

"The  Gaunts  always  did  the  unexpected," and  she  add- 
ed, to  Decima,  that  this  particular  member  of  the  family 
was  the  most  obstinate  of  men.  "  If  he  has  made  up  his 
mind  to  live,  and  make  you  happy,  you  may  depend  upon, 
it  he  will  do  so." 

He  displayed  his  obstinacy  not  only  in  getting  well,  but 
in  the  matter  of  an  early  marriage.  Decima  pleaded  k*  for 
time,"  of  course ;  but  Gaunt  would  scarcely  listen  to  the 
plea,  and  she  was  so  grateful  to  him  for  not  dying  that 
she  yielded. 

They  were  married  within  the  month,  and  for  a  time, 
for  nearly  a  year,  in  faet,  disappeared  from  the  sight, 
though  not  the  memory,  of  their  friends  and  wandered 
about  the  Continent,  far  off  the  beaten  tracks,  staying  at 
some  little  old-world  town,  or  lingering  beside  one  of  the 
smaller  Italian  lakes  whose  shores  the  tourist  has  not  yet 
troubled  with  his  check  suit  and  camera. 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  253 

They  ought  to  have  been  bored  to  death,  but,  strange 
to  say,  they  were  not.  Their  love  had  been  tried  in  a 
very  fiery  furnace,  and  had  stood  a  test  even  more  severe 
than  a  prolonged  honeymoon,  and  it  was  not  because  they 
were  tired  of  wandering,  or  of  each  other,  that  at  last  one 
day,  early  in  summer,  they  turned  homeward. 

That  Leafmore  was  glad  to  see  them  goes  without  say- 
ing, and  the  people  showed  their  delight  at  the  return  of 
"  my  lord  and  lady "  in  the  usual  way.  There  were 
triumphal  arches  and  a  brass  band,  and  the  whole  village 
turned  out  to  meet  and  greet  them,  and  escorted  them  to 
the  Hall,  with  cheers  which  drowned  the  music  of  the 
band.  To  those  who  know  the  power  and  volume  of  a 
country  brass  band  this  will  convey  a  fairly  accurate  idea 
of  the  heartiness  of  the  cheers. 

Having  reached  home,  Gaunt  and  Decirna  would  have 
liked  to  settle  down  into  a  life  as  closely  resembling  their 
quiet  honeymoon  as  possible,  but  Decima  was  too  wise  to- 
yield  to  the  desire. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  stifling  a  sigh,  as  she  regarded  the  lit- 
tle heap  of  invitations  which  very  soon  appeared  beside 
the  breakfast  plate.  "  We  must  go,  of  course.  I  must 
not  forget  that  you  do  not  belong  to  me  altogether." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  "  he  said.  "  And  to  whom  also  do  I  be- 
long, pray  ?  " 

"  To  these,  and  these,  and  these,"  she  said,  turning  over 
the  notes  from  the  Roboroughs  and  the  Ferndales  and  the 
rest.  "  We  must  do  our  duty,  dearest.  Besides  " — she  hesi- 
tated, and  looked  at  him  wistfully. 

"  Out  with  it,"  he  said,  with  a  smile.  "  I  was  thinking 
what  a  nice,  quiet  time  we  would  have  down  here,  you 
and  I ;  but  if  you've  got  an  idea  that  it's  your  Duty- — Duty 
with  a  capital  D — to  drag  me  into  a  round  of  dinner  par- 
ties, I'm  quite  certain  that  you'll  do  it.  But  go  on.  What 
were  you  going  to  remark  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  to  say  that  I  didn't  want  you  to  get 
tired  of  me — of  living  a  sort  of  Darby  and  Joan  exist- 
ence." 

Gaunt  laughed,  witli  an  affectation  of  mockery. 

"  My  dear  Decima,  that's  a  little  too  thin !  As  if  I  didn't 
know  that  you  are  dying  to  gad  about  among  these  peo- 
ple, and  be  petted  and  made  much  of — as  if  there  were 


251  TIER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

any  special  merit  in  being  pretty  to  look  at  and  having 
*  mousy  '  ways  which  get  over  people." 

She  rose  and  put  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  her  finger 
on  his  lips. 

"  You'll  have  the  servants  come  in  and  see  you  !  ''  he 
said  pretending  to  be  alarmed. 

"  And  if  they  do?  "  she  retorted.  "  They  all  know  I'm 
weak  enough  to  be  in  love  with  you  still." 

They  did  the  round  of  dinner  parties,  and  as  Gaunt 
had  prophesied,  Decima  was  petted  and  made  much  of. 
In  due  course  they  returned  the  hospitality  extended  to 
them,  and  dinners  and  dances,  garden  parties  and  im- 
promptu luncheons  for  a  time  "  rule  firm"  at  Leafmore. 

It  was  after  one  of  these  quiet  lunches,  which  was  eaten 
in  the  dining-room  and  on  the  terrace  indifferently,  that 
Decima,  who  was  seated  on  the  lawn  beside  Lady  Robor- 
ough  and  Aunt  Pauline — that  lady  had  long  ago  forgiven 
(Taunt,  and  had  grown  absurdly  attached  to  him — saw  a 
fly  coming  up  the  drive. 

"Who  are  these,  deary"  asked  Lady  Roborough. 
'•More  visitors?  If  so,  it  is  to  be  hoped  there  is  some 
luncheon  left." 

"  I  don't  know  whom  it  can  be,"  said  Decima,  looking^ 
at  the  middle-aged  and  rather  nervous-looking  lady  and 
the  very  pretty  little  girl  who  sat  beside  her  in  the  ; 
riage. 

At  this  moment  Gaunt,  followed  by  Lord  Ferndale  and 
the  other  gentlemen,  came  down  the  terrace  and  joined 
the  ladies. 

"  There  is  some  one  coming — who  is  it  ? ''  said  De 

Before  she  could  finish  the  girl  in  the  carriage  caught 
sight  of  Gaunt,  jumped  up,  called  to  the  driver  to  si 
and,  getting  out,  ran  quickly  across  the  lawn  and  sei: 
Gaunfs  hand  with  a  cry  of  innocent  delight. 

Gaunt  looked  down  at  her  for  an  instant  or  two,  in. 
doubt  and  uncertainty,  then  he,  too,  cried  out,  and  as  de- 
lightedly : 

"  Why,  Maude  !     Is  it  possible  ?  " 

"  Yes  ! '"  she  responded,  clinging  to  his  hand   and 

ding  at  him,  and  then  back  at   her  mother,  who  w; 

:ng    her    more   slowly   and   timidly.     "And    YOU 

to  see  me?     You  don't  mind  my  coining, 


HER  HEART'S  DESIRE.  255 

"  Glad  !     I  should  think  so  !  "  said  Gaunt.     "  Ho 
you  do,  Mrs.  Watson?"  he  added,  extending  his  hand 
to  her  mother. 

"  There  !  I  said  so !  "  exclaimed  Maude.  "  Mamma 
said  we  ought  not  to  come;  that  we  ought  to  wait — that 
it  wasn't  good  manners ;  but  I  knew  you  wouldn't  mind 
— that  you'd  be  glad  to  see  me.  And — oh,  I  did  so  want 
to  see  you  ! '' 

Gaunt,  all  aglow  with  pleasure,  turned  to  Decima  and 
-the  others. 

"This   is   Mrs.  Watson  and  little  Maude,  my  fellow 
ngers  on  the  poor  Pevensey  Castle,  Decie- " 

But  Decima  had  guessed  their  identity  before  this,  and 
had  given  an  eager  hand  to  the  rather  embarrassed  lady. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  !     So  very  glad  ! '' 
Decima,  with  "the  Decima  voice  and  smile,"  as  Lady 
Roborough  called  it.     "  Oh,  let  her  come  to  me,  Edward  !  " 
she  said,  wistfully,  and  she  drew  the  child  to  her  eagerly. 

"  I  ought  to  apologize  for  this — this  intrusion,"  said 
Mrs.  Watson,  nervously ;  "  but — but  we  are  in  England 
on  a  visit,  and  Maude  insisted  upon  coming." 

••  And  you  very  properly  and  kindly  yielded,"  said 
Gaunt,  gratefully.  "  It  was  very  kind  of  you,  and  if  I 
tried  I  couldn't  tell  you  how  glad  I  and  my  wife — this  is 
my  wife,  Mrs.  Watson — are  to  see  you  !  " 

"  I  said  so,  mother  !  "  said  Maude,  nodding  triumphantly. 

"  How  well  she  looks !  "  said  Gaunt,  a  few  minutes 
later,  and  speaking  in  an  undertone,  so  that  Maude,  who 
was  the  center  of  a  group  of  ladies,  to  whom  she  was 
trying  to  talk  all  at  once,  might  not  hear.  Her  mother's 
face  flushed  with  gratitude  and  happiness. 

"  Yes,  she  is  quite  well !  It  was  Africa.  Oh,  it  is  a 
wonderful  country,  and — and  I  can  never  be  too  thank- 
ful !  She  is  all  the  world  to  me,  Lord  Gaunt.  But  if  it 
had  not  been  for  you,  we  should  never  have  reached 
Africa,  and  Maude " 

"  Mamma's  trying  to  thank  him,"  said  Maude  at  that 
moment  "  As  if  she  could !  Besides,  he  doesn't  like 
being  thanked — I  know  that !  " 

"  Come,  Maude,"  said  Mrs.  Watson.  "  We  will  go 
now.  Lady  Gaunt " 

"  Indeed,  you  will  not ! "  said  Decima,  with  gentle  stern- 


256  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

ness.  "  You  are  not  going  for  a  long  time — oh,  a  very 
long  time.  You  are  going  to  stay  with  us,  are  you  not, 
Maude  ?  " 

Maude  looked  from  Gaunt  to  Decima,  then  nodded  and 
smiled  ecstatically. 

"  Oh,  yes — yes  !  Please,  mamma !  "  she  said,  beseech- 
ingly, and  Gaunt  rendered  any  discussion  futile  by  send- 
ing for"  their  luggage. 

A  little  later,  when  the  other  guests  had  gone,  with 
the  exception  of  Lady  Roborough,  who  was  staying  in 
the  house.  Decima  and  she  were  sitting  at  tea  with 
Mrs.  Watson,  on  the  terrace,  Maude  was  on  Gaunt's 
knee,  and  Mrs.  "Watson  was  telling  the  other  two  ladies 
of  the  child's  marvelous  recovery. 

"And  how  well  you  look — how  well  and  strong!" 
Maude  was  saying  to  Gaunt.  "  We  read  all  about  the 
lire,  and  what  you  did,  and  mamma  said  she  was  afraid 
you'd  die  ;  but  I  said,  no :  that  you  were  too  strong.  Do 
you  remember  how  you  used  to  lift  me,  chair  and  all,  just 
as  if  I  were  a  baby — like  your  dear  little  one  in  the 
nursery  upstairs  ?  " 

"You're  a  very  big  baby  now,  Maude,"  remarked 
Gaunt. 

"  Yes,  am  I  not  ?  And  I'm  so  strong,  too  !  Oh,  do  you 
think  I  ought  to  have  any  more  cake?  Well,  just  this 
piece.  What  a  pretty  lady  Lady  Gaunt  is ! "  she  said, 
after  n  quiet  munch. 

"Yes,  I  think  so,  too.     I'm  glad  you  agree  with  me." 

"  And  how — how  happy,  how  very  happy  she  looks  !  " 
remarked  Maude,  contemplating  Decima  thoughtfully. 

"Yes,  I  think  she's  fairly  happy,  Maude,"  he  assented. 
"  I  don't  beat  her  very  often.  Yes,  I  fancy  she's  happy  !  " 

"  I  know  why !  "  said  the  child,  with  a  quiet  laugh. 

Lady  Roborough  heard  her  and  looked  round 

"  Because  she  hath  '  her  heart's  desire,' "  she  quoted 
to  Gaunt. 

Maude  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  rather  puzzled 
for  a  moment  or  so.  Then  she  smiled  up  at  Gaunt 
triumphantly,  as  if  she  had  guessed  the  riddle. 

"  She  means  you !  "  she  said,  shrewdly. 

[THE  END] 


